


Needs and Desires (draft)

by ract46



Series: Doms and subs AU [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Sex, Angst, Basque, Bondage, Canonical Character Death, Collars, Dom!Allison, Dom!Danny, Dom!Derek, Dom!Scott, Dubious Consent, F/M, Finger Sucking, Flogging, Hunters, Knotting, Leather, Licking, Love, M/M, Multi, Nipple Clamps, Pegging, S&M, Scott McCall/Isaac Lahey thoughts, Spanking, Thigh-Length Boots, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - M/M/M, descriptions of violence, f/m - Freeform, m/m - Freeform, non-canon, pack comfort, spanking as punishment, sub!Isaac, sub!Jackson, sub!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-10 10:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 74,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ract46/pseuds/ract46
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the new school year starts the submissive Dominant Testing Centre assessments begin to have an effect on the students social standing and their relationships.</p><p>This has become more of an alternative BDSM universe version retelling/reimagining of season two as the story has progressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jackson

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an alternate universe where everyone is graded on sub/Dom scale when they reach the age of seventeen. This story has not been beta'd/proof-read; and having been written at 1:30am may require some editing and re-formatting when I wake in the morning (or rather later today)

_Jackson is naked; the sweat glistening on his body, sliding down under the leather collar around his neck, as he holds himself still; his erection curving up towards his abdomen. He will not move; he will not come; he will make his Dom proud._

_His Dom is sprawled out on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. He has been edging him for, he can’t remember; he’s lost track of the time._

_Jackson blinks and his Dom is standing at his side, unnaturally fast, his golden amber eyes shining as he leans towards Jacksons’ neck; Jackson turns his head to allow him access, his Dom’s tongue licking at the sweat around the collar. His claws ghosting up over Jackson’s abs; and over his ass._

_“Please,” Jackson barely breathes; his voice lost in his need, his body nearly vibrating with it._

_“Please what Jacks?” the timbre of his Dom’s voice against his throat, lowered with his lust, making Jackson shiver, “Tell me what you want Jackson, tell me what my sub needs.”_

_“To please you Sir; to make you proud,” Jackson babbles out his needs and desires, his Dom’s fangs scraping along the skin exposed above his collar, “I need you to fuck me, to tie to me with your knot, to fill me and make me come.”_

_“Come for me Jackson.”_

_“Thank you Sir, thank you Scott.”_

Jackson starts awake in shock; the sheet stuck to his groin and abdomen by the cooling evidence of his obedience to his dream.

“ **Fuck** ,” the exclamation whispered as he drops his head back onto the pillow; running his hands through his hair as the thoughts run through his mind.

_“Why the fuck would I submit to McCall?”_

_“Knot? WTF? Does becoming a werewolf give guys freaky junk? I should be glad that Derek’s bite didn’t work, lousy second-rate alpha.”_

_“Why am I even thinking about this?”_

But Jackson does know why. He knows what happened at school, and why Scott McCall is the Dom he fantasised of.

\--

**_Previous Day – Beacon Hills High School_ **

His life just isn’t how it’s supposed to be; in one day Jackson Whittemore has gone from being top of the school social hierarchy to somewhere on the D-list. So okay, it isn’t really in one day as the Dom/sub assessment and letter was a few weeks ago, but it’s only now that they are back at school that everybody’s results are becoming known. And okay so it isn’t so much that his life isn’t how it’s supposed to be, he is a submissive he’s accepted that, sort of, but do his so-called friends, _ex-friends_ , have to be so shitty about it. Well Danny isn’t treating him any differently, and that makes things bearable, _mostly_.

Finding out McCall wasn’t in the ‘Submissive 101’ class, or the ‘General Dom/sub Studies 102’, but in the ‘Dominant 101’ was kick where it hurts; and not hurts in a good way… did he really just think that, no, just no. Finding out McCall was one of the highest assessed Dominants in their school for this year was… _he doesn’t know what because it can’t be true, he’s having a nightmare or slipped into an alternate universe_.

Of course in ‘Sub101’ you can see most of the other subs eyes bug-out when he enters the class, especially Stilinski and Lahey; and the only seat left would be next to Stilinski.

The day doesn’t get any better when he gets to lacrosse practice; the one thing he had been looking forward to, where it wouldn’t matter that he was a submissive, what would matter was his ability on the pitch. Really, he should have known better.

The coach calls him into his office; some of the other players feel that it would be better for the team if McCall was captain, on his own; they don’t think that having a submissive for co-captain would be good for the team morale. His first thought is that this is McCall’s fault, he’s pressured the coach into this; but then he remembers that McCall wasn’t in the locker room when he entered, it was his so-called friends, the ex-friends.

When McCall does arrive, _late_ , and is informed of the change his reaction is not what Jackson expected. He doesn’t accept the captaincy; he insists that Jackson is reinstated as co-captain; that the team needs his tactical skills and planning; he threatens to quit, causing the coach to back down and re-instate the co-captaincy. The team doesn’t have that many good players and if they want to maintain their previous performance they can’t afford to lose McCall.

Danny and Stilinski turn up after the event; from the way McCall wrinkles up his nose and glares at them you’d think they smelled like they hadn’t showered in weeks; Stilinski even looks sheepish; ,i>is he subbing for McCall? Why do you even care, you don’t, it’s none of your business.

After practice he and McCall are last to leave the pitch, and before getting back into the locker room have a pep talk from the coach; all no hard feelings, just trying to do what’s best for the team. McCall practically growls at Finstock that he should ‘ _remember he’s supposed to be the coach and shouldn’t let the other players with less talent make the bad decisions for him, he should make them on his own_ ’, before he storms off. Jackson can’t help but smirk at McCall’s comment, really he can see the sentiment he meant, at the glare from the coach he casts he glance at the ground.  
When he gets back to the locker room McCall is already in the showers; Danny is nowhere to be seen. Only some of the ex-friends are around. The four of them rush him, forcing him up against the lockers; the metal handles digging into his back.  
The ringleader, Brett? Brian? Jackson wishes he’d actually bothered to at least remember the names of all the ‘friends’ that used to hang around with him when he was top of the social order, makes their thoughts clear.  
“There is only one thing a submissive co-captain is good for; to see to the needs of his players,” he sneers; two of them start to try and force Jackson to his knees.  
“I’ve no intention of submitting to any of you,” he protests trying to break free from the grasp of those holding him.

“You heard him,” they are all startled by the deep roar of a shout from behind them; as they turn to look Jackson can see over their shoulders; standing wrapped in towel is McCall, his hair slicked back and wet, and his body glistening from the shower. “Jackson has clearly told you that he doesn’t want to sub for you, he is not collared by you so I would say you should leave.”  
Brett/Brian looks like he is about to tell McCall to mind his own business, but McCall’s whole demeanour is both assertive and dangerous. Jackson know he’s a werewolf, he can see the amber glint in his eye. The four back off, did they notice his eyes?. McCall gives them a warning as they leave, more of a threat, not to try this again; that they would be in trouble if something happened to any of the other players of the team.

As soon as they are out of the locker room McCall is there beside him. His eyes are almost completely wolfed out; Jackson is sure he is sniffing him, “are you sniffing me?”  
“I’m just checking if you’re hurt, did they do anything to you?”  
Jackson is sure that it’s concern that flickers across McCall’s face, “I’m fine thanks; but you know I can take care of myself, I’m not some ninety-eight pound weakling.”  
The hurt look, as if he had just been slapped, flickers just as quickly, “I know you can take care of yourself, I was just trying to even the odds.”  
McCall is gone by the time Jackson gets out of the shower. He feels the sudden emptiness, as if he’s lost something, something important; but he doesn’t know what.

He needs to call Danny and talk to him, he’ll help him figure it out; and he needs to find out where he’s been, why he was late for practice and left so abruptly.


	2. Scott

“This is not how my life is supposed to be going; me and Allison are still supposed to be together. _We loved each other_ ,” Scott was practically whining his misery at Stiles.  
“Okay, so it _doesn’t matter_ that she’s from a family of hunters who **_kill werewolves_** , and _they don’t always_ stand by their code of only killing those who harm a human,” Siles retorted, “and it _doesn’t matter_ that her father threatened to kill you and only because Allison begged and said she wouldn’t see you again he didn’t, and if they ever found out you had been sneaking behind their backs her father would in all probability **_kill you_** , use your werewolf pelt to make a fur coat and your fangs to make a necklace for Mrs Argent; whom I am now totally picturing as _‘Cruella De Vil’_ only with werewolves instead of Dalmatians.”  
Scott stared at his friend, his mouth opening and closing as his brain tried to catch up with where their conversation had gone. They were still talking about his relationship with Allison, right?  
“But we _really loved_ each other,” Scott decided that they were still talking about his and Allison’s relationship, “our love was like the Epic Love Story of Beacon Hills High.”  
“Like Sandy and Danny from Grease,” Stiles jumped in, “who were both willing to change for each other in the end so that they could be together.”  
“Except she wouldn’t,” Scott finished.  
“ ** _Exactly_** ,” Stiles had an evil grin on his face and Scott felt he had walked into a trap, but he didn’t see it, yet, “and neither would you. You do realise that throughout you have said how you ‘loved’, not how you are in love that you only spoke of you and Allison’s love in past tense.”  
Stiles could see the confused look Scott had and took the opportunity to continue, “You need to think of Allison as Hermoine to your Harry; you’re both to strong-minded and neither could submit to the other. You need to find your Ginny.”

\--

While Scott and Stiles still had most subjects together there was one class that they were now split. Stiles had to take ‘Submissive 101’, while Scott was in ‘Dominant 101’; as was Allison. They sat at opposite sides of the room; he saw her look over a few times, they smiled, but something was distracting him. Someone was missing, he scanned the room. He saw Danny he was sitting at table by himself; Jackson wasn’t in the class, Jackson wasn’t a Dom.  
Scott’s thoughts couldn’t help but to return to when he opened the letter from the sDTC and read his assessment; those thoughts of having Jackson submit to him, the thoughts of Jackson stripped and on his knees. _No, no, where are these thoughts coming from. Jackson is not his Ginny he’s his Draco, no matter how much the thoughts of having him submit affect him. Really, why couldn’t Stiles have compared them to Star Wars characters? Why couldn’t he be Luke searching for his Leia, yeah that, no wait …_

Dammit; now he’s late for lacrosse practice. Held back in Dom-101 because he wasn’t paying attention in class; had to listen to the teacher tell him ‘ _just because he’s been assessed higher on the scale than any of his classmates doesn’t mean he is a better Dom than them, only that he has more natural ability; he still has a lot to learn about being a good Dom_ ’. He knows that already.

What the coach is saying can’t be right; some of the other players feel that as Jackson is a sub it wouldn’t be right for him to continue being co-captain. Scott can feel his wolf rising, he has to keep a hold, _no shifting in locker room_ ; he can’t keep from shouting the coach down, Jackson’s the best tactical player they have, if he doesn’t remain as co-captain then Scott won’t either, hell he won’t even play, some players don’t want Jackson to be co-captain just because he’s a submissive even though he’s a better player than they can ever hope to be. He must have made his point because Jackson is re-instated as co-captain.  
He turns his head to see Stiles and Danny entering the locker room at the same time, where have they been? He catches a scent of something, sniffs the air; _whoa are Stiles and Danny having sex, is Stiles submitting to him?_ But there is something else; he scowls as he senses _there is another wolf in the locker room_. He needs Stiles, needs his advice, to help him identify them.

Stiles’ plan is for Scott to sniff the other players one-on-one to find the other werewolf; when he sniffs Danny he recognises the scent. When Danny sees him sniffing he must think it’s his cologne or deodorant that he is smelling as he tells him it’s ‘Armani’; _but Scott knows it’s Stiles_. Danny and Stiles have had a lot of body contact.  
Stiles plan works though and he identifies the other wolf; it’s Isaac. Isaac is _begging_ him not to tell when the Sheriff shows up to talk with Isaac. Isaac’s begging stirs something in him; _something Scott likes_. Scott overhears the Sheriff inform Isaac that his father is dead.

Scott notices that he and Jackson are last to leave the pitch; as they are heading back to the locker room Coach wants to have a talk with them; he’s saying something about hoping there are no hard feelings, he was just trying to do what’s best for the team. Scott feels himself getting angry, Coach is supposed to be the one guiding the team not the other way around; he finds himself practically growling at the coach that he should ‘ _remember he’s supposed to be the coach and shouldn’t let the other players with less talent make the bad decisions for him, he should make them on his own_ ’; once he’s said it feels there was _something not quite right with it_ ; he rushes off embarrassed at something, but he’s not certain what, and heads for the showers.

As Scott is coming back from his shower he sees a group of four surrounding Jackson; two of them are touching him, he feels himself start to shift, a growl in his head saying **_mine_** as they start to try and force Jackson to his knees.  
Jackson tries to break free, “I’m not submitting to any of you.”  
“You heard him,” Scott feels it come out as a roar of a shout, he continues, “Jackson has clearly told you that he doesn’t want to sub for you, he is not collared by you so I would say you should leave.”  
He’s hiding his claws in his fists, he’s sure his eyes are turning too, has anyone noticed? He warns them not to try forcing themselves on anyone else who says no. Once they are gone he walks over to Jackson to check he is okay; his claws are retracting, but the closer he gets to Jackson his feels something. There is a scent, **_something sweet and spicy_**.  
Scott feels himself leaning in towards Jackson to take in more of that scent; **_wants to bury his nose in the crook of his neck and lick and nibble and bite and inhale_**. Then he’s aware that Jackson is saying something…  
“Are you sniffing me?”  
“I’m just checking if you’re hurt,” Scott is sure he must be blushing, “did they do anything to you?” He feels embarrassed, how did he loose so much control, keep losing control around Jackson.  
“I’m fine thanks,” Jackson replies, “but you know I can take care of myself, I’m not some ninety-eight pound weakling.”  
Scott is mortified, “I know you can take care of yourself, I was just trying to even the odds.”  
Jackson heads to the showers. Scott feels something twist in his insides; but he doesn’t know why. _Something tells him he does, he's just not admitting to it._

He needs to talk with Stiles, he’s done more research on the werewolf thing and will know; _has to know because he doesn’t want to have to ask Derek_. And he needs to find out what is going on between Stiles and Danny.


	3. Stiles

To Stiles it appeared that Jackson was shell-shocked throughout the ‘Submissive 101’ class; he didn’t seem to be taking anything in. Stiles thought _maybe he still can’t believe he’s a sub and supposed to be in this class_.  
“No Stilinski,” he heard Jackson snarl into his ear, “I **_know_** I’m a sub and **_supposed_** to be here; **_my letter told me so_**. Now shut up.”  
 _Shit_ , Stiles thought, _I need to work on not verbalising what I’m thinking, and there’s a difference between knowing and accepting_.  
Another snarl from Jackson let Stiles know he was still speaking.  
After class Jackson took off, and Stiles found himself thinking _‘Light thinks it travels faster than anything but…’; Pratchett, really I’m thought quoting Pratchett?_  
Stiles headed out of the class and quickly headed to the ‘Domination 101’ class in the hope of catching up with Scott who would be leaving that class. He found Scott had been held back in the class, and as he turned to head to lacrosse ran straight into Danny.  
Looking up into Danny’s eyes Stiles murmured, “Sorry.”  
Stiles saw a smirk on Danny’s lips and realised that he was staring at his mouth; ,i >and that Danny was staring at his mouth.  
“I can _think_ of a way for you to _apologise_ if you want…” Danny says, low to avoid being overheard; a hand firmly around Stiles’ upper arm.  
Stiles mind is a flurry of thoughts, _really, really_ , and decides to take chance; lowering his eyes he compliantly answers, “Okay.”  
Danny leads him to the toilets near the science block; it was on the way to lacrosse and should be quiet.

\--

 _He needed, just needed so badly for this not to be a fantasy, for this to be really happening. Danny had him on his knees, his face just inches from his crotch. God he hoped this wasn’t fantasy, or a cruel prank and a group of Danny’s friends were about to bust in on them and point and laugh at how pathetically needy Stiles was, and did he really think Danny would let him submit to him. No, Danny wasn’t the kind of guy to play a prank that cruel, but maybe he wasn’t beyond teasing Stiles and wasn’t going to let him…_  
“No Stiles, this isn’t some cruel prank; and yes Stiles you are going to take care of a pressing need I have.”  
Oh god, he’d verbalised his thoughts **_again_** …  
Stiles moved his hands to open Danny’s fly.  
“No Stiles, hands behind your back,” Danny ordered; Stiles felt the thrill head straight to his groin.  
Danny pulled his hard cock from his fly and rubbed the head over Stiles lips, “The tip only in your mouth, get it wet, and careful of your teeth.”  
It felt and tasted like nothing Stiles had ever had in his mouth before; well it was something that he had never had in his mouth; he hadn’t ever sucked a cock before. A hard silky soft, salty sweet… he wished he’d done this before and thank god he had something in his mouth at least he knew he wasn’t talking.  
Danny groaned above him, “A little more.” Danny’s hand gripped the back of his head. Danny pulled his head slightly further forward, pushing his cock deeper into Stiles mouth. Stiles tongue slid over the underside of Danny’s erection, along the ridge of flesh; both Danny and Stiles moaned. Danny started thrusting faster, and Stiles was hard, very hard in his jeans.  
Out of the blue Danny pulled out of Stiles mouth; Stiles mouth chased after the hard tasty morsel escaping him only to be stopped by hand on his forehead.  
“Strip,” Danny commanded, his lust blown eyes staring down at him.  
Stiles eyes widen in shock, what if someone finds them, what if; but he still obeys, quickly stripping his clothes strewn across the floor and his hard-on finally free of the constricting jeans and underwear. Danny is fishing a condom and lube from his wallet. Once he is ready he spins Stiles around so he’s bent over the sinks, looking at them both in the mirror. Danny’s fingers roughly opening him, he leans over Stiles back and whispers into his ear, “sorry I don’t have more time to get you ready; this is going to hurt a bit,” and then he’s pushing into Stiles.  
Stiles chews at his lip, trying to stifle the cry from the initial pain, the burn throbbing through him; and finds himself pushing back. Danny’s arm snakes around his torso and pulls him up against his chest, his hand roaming over Stiles body, tweaking at his nipples; it hurts, but not enough, and just enough make him beg for more.  
And then Danny’s has his hand wrapped around Stiles hardness and the friction is too much and Stiles is pitching forward back over the sink; suddenly empty as he feels the wet heat on his back and ass start to quickly cool.  
Danny is already zipping up and heading to the door calling back to Stiles, “You better hurry up, we’re late for lacrosse,” and then the door swings shut behind him.

\--

Danny is still outside the door when Stiles emerges from the toilets after cleaning up, well the best he could.  
“I have a responsibility to make sure you are okay, and I wanted ensure that no-one disturbed you while you cleaned up,” Danny looks slightly worried, “you are okay aren’t you?”  
“Yes, I’m fine; my ass is a bit sore, but hey I’ve never been fucked before so I think that’s to be expected,” Stiles narrows his eyes and inquires, “that is to be expected right?”  
“Yes, Stiles,” Danny snorts, “that is to be expected, especially given the circumstances.” He throws an arm around Stiles and leads him to the locker room, “I should have waited until I had more time to prepare you then it wouldn’t have hurt so much,” he looks down at Stiles, “next time, if you’re willing, we can take more time…”  
Stiles is shocked, not quite believing what he’s hearing, Danny would want to have sex with him again, “you’d want to do that again , with me?”  
“Yes Stiles, I could do a lot worse than collar you, if you want?” Danny grins at him, but Stiles can see apprehension in his eyes, _is Danny worried I’d turn him down?_  
“I could sub for you again, see how things go.” Stiles tries to play it cool his voice cracking.  
“We will talk after school,” Danny’s smile lights up his face; or so it appears to Stiles.

\--

When they enter the locker room Danny no-longer has his arm around Stiles; but when Stiles sees Scott looking at him, his nose twitching he knows he knows; _freaky werewolf super-senses_. He tries to distract Scott from talking about Danny by telling him about his plan to help Scott on the full moon, though when the chains fall out of his locker they have the attention of everyone, and Danny frowns at them. Scott however is more concerned about the other werewolf; Stiles has a plan, and it works. Scott is able to identify Isaac, but did he have to knock Danny so hard. _No, no, Stiles really shouldn’t think Danny and hard in the same train of thought; all he can think now is the feel of Danny in his mouth, and… he really needs a cold shower_.  
After practice Stiles makes a quick exit.

\--

Though somehow the plan to meet up with Danny to talk, before meeting up with Scott to chain him up, he stifles a laugh at the thought of him a sub chaining up Scott a Dom, when Stiles ends up in detention over their, _okay his_ , idea to find out what was happening with Isaac.  
When he finally gets out he has a call from Allison. The hunters are planning to kill Isaac; a hunter dressed as a deputy is headed with wolfsbane to the sheriff’s office.

Stiles ends up heading to the sheriff’s office with Derek, who is being more of a sourwolf, and more aggressive, than usual. His nose keeps wrinkling. Before he got in the jeep he had slammed Stiles up against the side of it; sniffing him like he couldn’t believe what his nose was telling him. _He’s gonna kill me, OMG he’s gonna kill me, at least I won’t die a virgin, Stiles think_ s.  
“Has he claimed you?” Derek scowls.  
“We should concentrate on how we’re going to save you’re latest baby wolf.” _Stiles is not having a conversation about his possible relationship, with Danny, with Mr Sourwolf, Mr Ruggedly Sexy Sourwolf; whose all handsy and pushy and makes Stiles all confused in his thoughts._  
“You’ve no idea what I could do with my hands, and it’s easy to confuse you,” Derek smirks, actually smirks at him, “and if you’re getting confused about other Dominants you should not be considering allowing yourself to be claimed by another.” He growls the last part out.  
Stiles tries to ignore the emotional state, the confusion, Derek is causing in him, “How are we saving Isaac?”  
“I’ll just use my charm to distract while you sneak in and get Isaac out,” Derek states plainly.  
And it works, sort of.  
Okay, so the hunter was there, though he’d taken an arrow to the knee, okay not actually his knee, and Isaac had broken out of the cell, and was just about attack Stiles, seriously why, he was there to help save him, when Derek rushed in and with a single roar had Isaac submissive and cowering.  
Stiles had to get his thoughts under control, there were two werewolves here with their super-senses who could smell the effect Derek’s show of dominance was having on him, the thoughts they stirred.  
Derek got Isaac out before Stiles dad showed up; Stiles pointed to the hunter, “It was him.”  
From the look his dad gives him, Stiles is sure he isn’t going to be able to meet up with Derek, _no not Derek_ , with Danny any time soon.


	4. Derek

Derek doesn’t like it. No, he doesn’t like it one bit. Stiles should not smell like that, someone else’s sent all over him; he can still discern Stiles scent, and that undertone to it, _sweet and spicy that any werewolf would know_. He can scarcely keep his wolf under control. _Stiles should smell like him, should have his marks on him_. The need to nuzzle and lick and clean this scent from Stiles, **_his Mate_** , rises in him and he fights to keep from licking at the nape of Stiles neck.  
“Has he claimed you?” Derek calmly asks, well he’s doing his best; he’s sure he is keeping his wolf in check, his voice even and his emotions hidden.  
“We should concentrate on how **_you_** are going to save you’re latest baby wolf,” Stiles replies, “I’m not having a conversation about my relationship with Danny, with Mr Sourwolf, Mr Ruggedly Sexy Sourwolf; whose all handsy and pushy and makes me all confused in my thoughts”.  
“You’ve no idea what I could do with my hands,” Derek suggestively interrupts.  
 _He keeps to himself his thoughts of what he could do with his hands to Stiles, warming that inviting ass, sliding his fingers over the puckered hole before breaching inside…_  
He instead continues, “And it’s easy to confuse you; however, if you’re getting confused about other Dominants you should not be considering allowing yourself to be claimed by another.” He can’t keep a growl from escaping at the last part.  
Derek can smell Stiles reaction; knows Stiles is attracted to and submissive to him, but something keeps holding Stiles back; and Derek won’t push Stiles if he wants to submit to another Dom. _He really, really wants to, wants to claim Stiles as his Mate; to have Stiles submit to him, Stiles to be collared by him; but only when he knows that is what Stiles wants to_. He wants to wait until Stiles is ready, but how much longer can he hold back from taking what he wants from Stiles?  
But still Stiles deflects, changing the direction away from what is, what could be, between them, “How are we saving Isaac?”  
“I’ll just use my charm to distract while you sneak in and get Isaac out,” Derek asserts simply.  
And it works.

Derek charms the deputy at the front desk. Stiles sneaks in; the hunter is there and Isaac is out of the cell. Derek manages to get past the front desk and the deputy in time to see Isaac about to attack Stiles; he puts himself between them and roars down Isaac who backs away, cowering, baring his neck in submission. Derek is unsure whether it is the submission of Isaac, or the scent from Stiles that is arousing him more.  
He and Isaac leave before Stiles father and his deputies arrive.

\--

The submission from Isaac is fuelling Derek’s arousal, and Derek can smell the tang of Isaac’s arousal. Isaac’s from submitting to Derek, and from Derek’s own state of sexual tension.  
It doesn’t help that the full moon is affecting their control; and Derek’s control has also taken a hard blow from the knowledge that Stiles, _his Mate_ , has been with someone else.  
Within the confined space Isaac’s increasingly submissive responses to Derek thrum against his control, breaking it down; until all the deeds that Derek imagines doing with Stiles, he is doing to Isaac; but with a jealous anger driving his lust.

Derek slams Isaac against the nearest wall, their bodies flush against each other; Isaac bares his neck and Derek laves the exposed flesh with his tongue. Nibbling; biting; licking. Small needy sounds escape from Isaac as his arms and legs wrap themselves around Derek, holding him because he needs to please him, needs to be wanted by him; needs his approval.  
Derek’s claws and fangs come out as he partially shifts as he loses more of his control; Isaacs’ need spiking his carnality. He rips the shirt from Isaacs’ back, eliciting a gasp at the sudden pain as the fabric is torn from his body. Derek travels down Isaac’s body from his neck to his chest; tongue and teeth marking him as his Alpha bites and licks across his neck and chest. The catch in his breath at every little sharp stinging bite causing Derek to growl in desire; and Isaac to whimper in need.  
Derek pulls back from Isaac as he commands, “Strip.”  
Isaac is quick to comply; standing before Derek naked; need and desire etched on his face, and the scent of his pleasure seeping from every part of his body. Derek circles around him, ogling the sight. He rakes his claws down Isaac’s back; Isaac leans back against Derek’s chest as Derek nips his neck and bites his shoulder, his cries of pain urging Derek on.  
Grasping tightly to the back of Isaac’s neck with one hand Derek bends him over; his claws caress over the white globes of his ass, his too white ass. Derek’s hand rises and falls, eliciting shocked gasps from the sub as his hand lands on Isaac’s ass, the sharp intakes of breath becoming shallower as smacks land harder and faster on his ass. As Isaac’s cries and tears increase, his pleading, “please, sir, please”.  
“Kneel on the chair, head down against the back.”  
Derek strips, his hardness slaps against his abdomen; he kneels behind Isaac, admiring the heated red cheeks he pulls them apart. Derek’s tongue and fingers quickly open and ready Isaac, he plunges in fully on the first thrust as Isaac pleads, “No, please no _daddy_.”

\--

Derek awakes in the morning to find himself naked and wrapped around a naked Isaac. Isaac’s body is covered in bites, scratches and yellow/purple bruising. His memories of the previous night, causing him to inwardly cringe at his loss of control; and flooding him with remorse.  
The scars and markings he left on Isaac will heal as if he were human; having been left there by his Alpha. He can clearly see they were intended to claim him, mark him as his. There is hardly an area of Isaac that hasn’t been marked; and he knows that Isaac is not a masochist; he wouldn’t have enjoyed the session. He’s angry with at himself and fears that his concerns of becoming like his uncle are being realised.

He feels Isaac awaken and still beside him; looking into his face he can see worry and fear. Isaac smiles weakly up at him, but it soon leaves his kiss and bite swollen lips as Derek doesn’t return the smile. Derek and smell the fear intensify.  
“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have used you like that.”  
“I chose to submit.”  
“I know, and I also know that you didn’t enjoy everything I did to you,” Derek’s voice is soft, low, filled with shame, “that was…”  
Isaac interrupts him, pleads with him, “I know you enjoyed, I served you, gave you what you wanted.”  
“I should not have used you like I did; you are not a masochist, I know that, and what I did was abuse.”  
“You need the person who submits to you to take some pain, to give that is what you need; I wanted to submit to you, I wanted to give you what you need.” I wanted to belong.  
Derek sees the dampness in Isaac’s eyes and pulls him into a hug, Isaac struggles he doesn’t want to be comforted, he knows what Derek is going to say, but Derek is his Alpha, he’s stronger and won’t let go.  
“You will not submit to me again, I am not the right Dominant for you.” Behind his words Derek is thinking, _if I had used Stiles, my Mate, like that would he have survived; he’s human, how can I be the right Dominant for him either_.  
Isaac silently cries onto Derek’s chest, remembering his fathers’ words, _you’ll never find yourself a decent Dom being such a pathetic sub_.


	5. Danny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the conversation in this chapter on the services of the 'submissive Dominant Testing Centre' has been influenced the excellent story I'm enjoying **' _Three Points Make a Triangle_ ' by jengurl**

‘ _Dude, IL bthere n 10 mins, I nd 2 tlk_ ’; it wasn’t the message Danny was waiting on, it was from Jackson not from Stiles.  
‘ _CU thN_ ’; Jackson needed him, and what sort of a friend would he be to turn him away. He just hoped that he left before Stiles turned up. This possibility with Stiles was new; he didn’t want Jackson’s bitchy comments killing his chance. Danny had known that Stiles was interested in him; had been for a while, always asking him if he was attractive to gay guys, sitting at the same table in the cafeteria, even though he knew Jackson would be there and they couldn’t stand each other. He just hadn’t considered that he was that interested, _or realised that he was interested in Stiles himself_.

When Jackson arrives he’s on edge, nervous and constantly dropping his gaze to the floor submissively. Danny didn’t expect such as minor show of submission would affect him, not when it was from Jacks, but he can’t deny the tightening constriction in his pants. _This is not cool, he shouldn’t be getting turned on over Jacks; it would be like incest, just wrong_.  
“Drink?” he distracts himself from that line of thought; Sam and Dean are fictional characters, so the Wincest fic on his hard drive doesn’t count.

When Danny returned with the drinks Jackson was still standing, hands clasped loosely behind his back; normally he would have been lounging on the couch already, _does he even realise how submissively he’s behaving, how natural it is for him?_  
Danny hands him one of the glasses, the ice clinking in the silence between them, and indicates for Jackson to sit; taking a seat beside him on the couch, and turning so they face each other.  
Jackson still doesn’t talk; staring at the drink in is hand. Danny has only Jackson like this, so lost, when he’s bothered by something, something that is making him face a truth that he has trouble accepting.  
“So, I heard something happened in the locker room, with Brian and his buddies; you wanna talk about it?”  
Jackson isn’t even looking at him; his gaze is still fixed on the drink he’s holding.  
“Do you think the sDTC ever makes mistakes?” Jackson still isn’t looking at him as he asks; the ice in the drink holding his fascination.  
Danny sighs as he takes Jacksons drink and places both on the table in front of them.  
“Jackson, tell me what happened.”  
“I don’t think they were too pleased about me being reinstated as co-captain; he said…” Jackson falters slightly, his voice quieting, “he said that the only thing a submissive co-captain was good for was servicing his players.” Jackson grabs his drink from the table taking a gulp before continuing, “Two of his buddies have grabbed me and trying to get me down on my knees,” his breath is ragged with anger at the memory, “I’m telling them that I am not gonna submit to them, but they aren’t listening and don’t care. I’m trying to fight them off, but there’s more than one of them and…”  
Danny listens in silence as his friend continues; he knows he needs to talk through what happened.  
“The thought of subbing to them just made me feel sick; I thought I wasn’t going to have a choice, they were just going to force me to…to…” he looks down to the clinking ice in the glass and realises his hands are trembling, “If Scott hadn’t come in… it was only because he ordered them to leave me alone that they left.”  
“ **McCall and you reported them right** ,” Danny asks, he knows he didn’t keep the ire out of his voice.  
“ **No** , what would be the point,” Jackson retorts. At Danny’s incredulous look he continues, “The word of one submissive against four Dominants; you really think they would have believed me. You know that wouldn’t happen.”  
“ **McCall wouldn’t back up your statement?** ” Danny forces from between gritted teeth.  
Jackson casts his eyes back to the ground; he knows Scott probably would have if he had asked, if he hadn’t verbally lashed out at him.  
“I never asked him to, and I sort of… I sort of lashed out at him afterwards.”  
“What did McCall do?”  
It’s starting to bug Jackson now how much Danny keeps calling him _McCall_ , which is curious given Jackson used to always put Scott down and use his surname.  
“Scott didn’t do anything, it was me.”  
Danny notices the blush creeping up Jackson’s neck, the way he has referred to Scott McCall by his forename since he started talking; and he’s not stupid, he’s sure he knows what this means.  
“When they left, he was making sure I was okay, and…” Jackson pauses again, letting out a breath, “I told him I didn’t need his help, I could take care of myself,” the pained expression on Jackson’s face as he continued confirmed Danny’s thought, “He looked like I’d kicked his dying dog; and he doesn’t get all up in my face pointing out I couldn’t, he just says he knows I could, he was just equalling the odds.”  
Danny is trying to put together everything Jackson has told him, and how it relates to his initial question on the sDTC getting the assessment wrong.  
“So, you think the sDTC assessment didn’t get your profile right, that you’re not a sub?” Danny gently probes; it doesn’t seem possible, he’s seen how submissively Jackson has acted from the time he arrived.  
Jackson softly laughs, bordering on hysteria, “No, no. I know I’m a submissive.”  
Danny can see the dampness in his eyes; he pulls him into a hug, holding him and lightly rubbing his back, as Jackson buried his head in against his neck. “Come on Jacks, tell me what’s wrong? What do you think the sDTC got wrong?”  
“Seriously, what kind of fucked up sub am I?” Jackson whined against Danny’s shoulder. Danny waited, letting Jackson continue when he was ready.  
“I know I want to, I just can’t let myself. I feel like in being a sub I’ve disappointed my folks, and then when I don’t submit to someone I’ve… I couldn’t, wouldn’t want to, submit to Brian or his…” Jackson can’t finish that train of thought, “but, even when… even when there is someone I could, would, submit to I can’t allow myself to and rebel, and strike out.”  
“Seriously Danny, what’s wrong with me? What sort of Dom is gonna want collar me?”  
“Didn’t you used to tell me you were everybody’s type?”  
“I lied about a lot of things, _I almost fooled myself_.”  
Danny realises that is a big admission for Jackson to make, “So, you don’t think they got your appraisal wrong?”  
“No, I think they did,” Jackson pulled back from Danny slightly, “I think if I didn’t fight what I want, _what I really need_ , I’d be rated more of a sub than I was.”  
“Jacks, you remember how many questions were on that time-limited assessment? How quickly you had to read and mark off your answers?”  
At Jacksons nod Danny resumes, “You think that didn’t pick up on your real desires and the persona you have been projecting?”  
Danny gives him a minute to consider before restarting, “And in the practical sessions, do you think that the assessors don’t pick up on the signs of who’s a submissive not willing to submit and who’s a Dom? They are trained psychologists, specialising in D/s assessment.”  
“I guess; you think I’m not a submissive as I think I am?”  
“No Jacks, I think with the right Dom you’ll be as submissive as you need to be.”  
Jackson smiles ruefully, “Why can’t they just assign me to the right Dom?”  
“Because they can’t force you to accept a Dom and they can’t force a Dom to accept you as their sub. However, they can send you a list of compatible Doms.”  
“What?”  
“Did you read the first letter that was sent out, the one with your appointment for your assessment?” Danny’s eyebrows rise accusingly as he continues, “the letter had a list of additional services that could be provided for a cost; the basic D/s assessment is covered by the federal taxes, but you can ask, and pay for, the inclusion of you sadomasochist assessment rating, the full assessment breakdown giving individual Dominant and submissive ratings that are used to determine your overall assessment; and they all will use your profiling to match you to a compatible Dom or sub based on selected criteria (age range, distance, sex).”  
Danny can see Jackson mulling this over in his head; he relaxes back on the couch, probably, Danny considers, for the first time since his assessment arrived, “Better now?”  
“Yeah, thanks man.”

\--

Jackson leaves before the moon rises. Danny still hasn’t seen or heard from Stiles, he’s beginning to think maybe he’s changed his mind, that maybe he was too rough with Stiles, caused him too much pain. Danny knows he was a bit less considerate of the sub than he’d normally be; he was rushed for time between classes. Not that it is any excuse; he should have waited and not started something with so little time. He can only hope he hasn’t killed any chance he has of making a claim on Stiles.  
But then what about those chains in his locker? And why was he showing them to McCall?

As Danny is about to go to bed his phone sounds signalling another text. It’s from Stiles.  
‘ _sry, groundd, cn we tlk n anon @ skool?_ ’  
Danny replies, ‘ _K, IL C b4 classes_ ’

He really wants to know what Stiles has done to get himself grounded; and can’t help but wonder if the metal chains and McCall were involved.


	6. Allison

Allison hadn’t spoken to Scott since their break-up; it hadn’t been a conscious choice, it didn’t seem to be a conscious decision on either of their parts; it just happened that they hadn’t spoken. Now here she was chaining him up; she wasn’t sure which of them felt that gut-punch the most.

It would have been Stiles chaining Scott up; and she knows Scott would not have had a problem with that. Stiles is a submissive, and they have been friends for years, so Scott knows there is nothing D/s related in Stiles putting him in metal bondage on the night of the full moon.  
Allison on the other hand is a Dominant, not a submissive, and she had wanted to bind Scott, to tie him up and strap him down in tight leather bindings; she wanted to collar and leash him and lead him around in submission to her. That is where their relationship failed; because he wanted the same, only with her as the submissive.

So how had she come to be the one chaining Scott up...  
Allison had overheard her father and grandfather plotting to kill Isaac Lahey; not because he had done harm to a human, as the code they claimed to live by required, but just because he was a werewolf and they _thought he may have been involved_ in his own fathers’ death, she had to stop them.  
Having called Stiles he was now working with Derek to free Isaac; she had slowed the hunter down, but it was up to Stiles and Derek to finish rescuing him. With Stiles now helping Derek, she had to chain up her werewolf ex-boyfriend; some might say it was ironic, effectively he was submitting to her, when neither of them wanting to submit to the other had prompted their breakup.  
But he’s not; he’s submitting to himself, chaining himself up to protect others from the loss of control he may have during the full moon. Whether it is Stiles or herself that lock the chains they are merely carrying out Scott’s own wishes; Scott is not submitting to anyone, she in turning the key and locking the chains is submitting to his will.

\--

She turns and leaves the Lahey basement; Scott trapped in the chest freezer, the heavy metal chains wrapped around it.  
She mourns for the love she had and lost; remembering _the feeling of his tongue lapping roughly at her nipple, as it swirled around her areola before his teeth enclosed over her swollen erect nipple and she would feel the sharp sting of pleasure; his fingertips brushing over her skin as his hand travelled down to enter between her moist warm lips, his fingers seeking her clitoris as he teased the sensitive skin; brushing against and lubricating the clitoral hood and the length of her inner lips; his mouth, tongue and teeth playing over both her breasts, the pleasure/pain just on the edge of her threshold, as his fingers scissoring and teasing inside her bringing her undone. His lips caressing up her body, across her neck to her mouth, soft, tender kisses raining on her as his covered hardness thrusts where his fingers had just teased; the rhythm and force rising with the passion and their need until they both crashed against the fulfilment of their desire_.  
She grieves for the submissive she never had; _she will never know the pleasure of having him naked and collared at her feet, his wet tongue working its way up her thigh length black leather boots; his gasps as her hand glides down his back, in the black leather gloves with the metal spikes along the palm and fingers, vampire gloves they’re called, and smack his ass; again and again until he is writhing and whimpering…_

\--

Her thoughts are interrupted when the flashlight dies.

She’s sidling her way through the darkened house, trying to make it to the exit; she doesn’t want to switch on any of the house lights as Mr Lahey is dead and therefore not in the house, and Isaac is in jail, well hopefully not by now, so also not home. The last thing she wants is the sheriff being called to the house and finding her here and Scott chained up in the chest freezer in the basement. _Honest officer, I wasn’t trying to kill my ex-boyfriend; I was chaining him up because he’s a werewolf and doesn’t want to maim and kill people_. Yeah, that would go down well after Aunt Kate.

Allison edges around the kitchen, heading to the door. The only light in the room coming through the window, from the moon luminous and full in the night sky. In the silence something causes her to start, halting in the middle of the room. From the corner of her eye, she perceives something; not a wolf as she would expect. It’s crawling along the ceiling, a tail swaying behind. She screams.

She runs back through the kitchen looking for something to use as a weapon. She’s searching through drawers looking for anything large enough to use to defend herself; the click-clack sound of the claws of the creature against the ceiling; it’s coming closer.  
As she turns with knife in hand abruptly the creature is on the floor, standing on two legs; it looks to be at least six-feet, its tail swinging behind it as it stalks towards her. Suddenly the door to the basement flies open and Scott, fully shifted, he rushes to put himself between the creature and her. He roars, deep and resonating throughout the room; she can feel the vibrations. It’s enough for the creature to flee; it just turns and is gone at Scott’s wolf’s roar.  
Scott takes after it, but it seems faster than him and in the street he seems to lose the scent. He turns and checks that Allison is unharmed. Neither of them knows what the creature was.

\--

Later, they talk.

“My parents are contacting the Centre for list of matched submissives,” Allison startles Scott with the unexpected news.  
“That costs a lot doesn’t it?” Scott realises he is not as affected by the announcement as he thinks he should be, their break up was only a few weeks ago.  
“I think they are more likely to try and set me up with sub from another family of hunters, so the matches from the Centre are probably a distraction,” Allison’s looking at the ground as she says this; luckily she misses the sudden look of panic on Scott’s face. _He doesn’t like the thought of more hunters in Beacon Hills; there is already more than enough of the Argent clan_.  
“So, have you found a submissive you want to make a claim for?” Allison’s question causes Scott’s heartbeat to increase, should he say?  
“There’s someone I find myself thinking of, but I’m not sure h…” Scott pauses, “I’m not sure they are interested in me.”  
“Then they’re a fool.” Allison smiles at him; and Scott can’t help but automatically smile back.  
“Hopefully someone on the Centre’s list is right for you.”  
Allison thought that it was easier then, to talk; it was almost like before, almost.


	7. The Third Letter

Jackson ripped the envelope open as soon has he picked it up. He’d been waiting for this to arrive since the night he talked with Danny. As soon as he got home that night, before setting up the video camera, he’d gone on-line to the sDTC website; after logging in with his ID he searched through to find the page for the additional services that could be ordered.  
The first option was greyed-out; _Register a claim for collaring_ ; as a submissive this wasn’t allowed to him, only a Dominant would have access to the option.  
The remaining lists of options are all available to him to choose from on the menu, and tailored to the fact he is a submissive:  
 _Reassessment of your submissive profiling_  
 _Request details of your sadomasochist assessment rating_  
 _Request full assessment breakdown_  
 _Request matching with compatible Dominants_

Selecting the last option he was suddenly feeling anxious, “What the fuck am I worried about?” he asks allowed; _he might not be on the list they send you_ , is the unspoken reply.  
He clicks on the options to limit the search by area and age; he keeps the area to the Beacon Hills plus 5 miles, and the age to plus six years; _I’m not trying to influence who’s a match, I just don’t want to have to travel far if I want to meet them, and I don’t want someone old enough to be my dad… or mom_.  
He clicks on the option for a maximum of ten matches, and also clicks on the option that Dominants who already have a registered collared submissive are excluded. The final option he chooses is that details of his and the matching Dominants D/s and SM profiles are included.

He skims through the terms and conditions, only really taking in the fact that the results will listed from the closest match to least compatible; the results do not enforce either the requester or the matches listed to enter into any contract or claim. He enters the payment details, and clicks the confirmation button. There was no changing his mind now.

Now the results had arrived. The first thing that Jackson looked at was the profile.  
 **Jackson Whittemore: sD33 – submissive / SM12 – Sadomasochist(M)**

Somehow it didn’t surprise him, nor did he feel distraught. He felt calm, it was nothing more than a confirmation of something he already knew; he just needed to accept. Looking at the top of the list of matches, acceptance was something he wanted.  
It was a ninety two per cent match; they were a perfect match on the SM profile, but the Dominant was higher rated as a Dom than he was as a sub. Other Dominants on the list that were better matches on the D/s profile were not as well matched on the SM profile.  
Of the other Dominants on the list he only recognised one; _Allison Argent was a ninety per cent match_ , she lower rated as a Dominant than he was a submissive, but higher rated on the SM profile. Both were within the tolerance the Centre allowed, and there had to be at least an eighty-five per cent match to be included on the list. Everyone else was below the ninety as a match; thankfully Danny wasn’t on the list.

After browsing the list of names and their profile details Jackson read the rest of the cover letter; _as you elected to have your best match informed of the results of this search along with their matches based on your selected criteria. We can inform you that based on that criterion you were their **second listed match**_ ; and paled.  
No, no, no; he did not tick the box to share the results. He checked the website again; and he was right, he didn’t tick the box; but the option was _I do **not** want to share the results of the compatibility profiling with my highest match_.  
This was a mistake; he was only using this to see who he might be compatible with; he didn’t want them to know, he wasn’t ready for that. But that inner voice let him know honestly, _that’s not what’s worrying you; it’s that someone else is a better match for them, and they now know that, so why would they collar you_. 

\--

It’s a very distinctive envelope, gunmetal grey with the heavy black lettering ‘sDTC’ in the top-right corner encircled by a collar an underscored by a riding crop. Everyone knew when they received a letter from the sD Centre.  
The submissive Dominant Testing Centre sent everyone two letters; one setting the date for their assessment to grade them on the convoluted submissive/Dominant scale; and one confirming the results with replacement copies of all your ID.

He truly didn’t know why he was receiving another one; he had already received his results, he’d had his two letters; now he has received a third. He had excitedly ripped the last envelope open, he knew it was the results and was eager to see how he had been assessed. This one, this one he didn’t know what it contained; this one he stared at, the apprehension gnawing at him; _why have they sent me another letter?_

He carefully opened the thick envelope and pulled the sheets of paper out. He carefully read the covering letter twice; then a third time to be certain.  
“ **What the fuck!** ” Scott suddenly exclaimed.

It wasn’t his profile that caused the outburst of shock.  
 **Scott McCall: sD65 – Dominant / SM54 – Sadomasochist(S)**  
He knew he had a sadistic streak; he worked hard to keep it under control, and keeping control had become harder since being bitten; _his wolf liked the effect of pain on others, a little more than he did he thought_.  
He was surprised that Jackson had requested to be matched with Dominants, he wasn’t sure that Jackson had accepted he was submissive; and seriously the Centre charged a fortune for matching, okay it was a fortune to Scott probably less so for Jackson.  
And he was pleased that he was Jackson’s top match, the Dominant best suited for him to submit to; _seriously ridiculously pleased, he could hardly keep the grin off his face_. It faltered slightly when he read that Jackson was not his best match; but that didn’t matter, he wanted Jackson, something in Jackson’s scent told him Jackson was his.  
But then he looked at the page of his ten matches; and there at the top of the list, his best match was… No, just no.  
 **Genim Stilinski: sD33 – submissive / SM12 – Sadomasochist(M)**

Seriously, that just is not happening; and how is Stiles a ninety-four per cent compatible match and Jackson a ninety-two? Their profile ratings are the same!  
He recognised the pictures of some of the other submissives listed; but there was only one picture, one name, that he cared about.  
Scott let out a muffled growl at the sound of the horn blaring from Stiles’ jeep; he shoved the letter in his jacket pocket and headed out the door.


	8. Conversations

**Scott & Stiles**

Scott jumped in the passenger’s side of Stiles’ jeep. The pages of the letter falling out of his pocket; Stiles bends down to pick them up, his eyes widening in surprise as he reads the start of the private correspondence.  
Scott snatches the pages from his hands, “That is personal Stiles.”  
“Sorry, terminal curiosity, you know.” Stiles eyes cast downward reflexively to the timbre in Scott’s voice. _He hates reacting this way to his friend, they have already discussed and agreed that Scott topping him would not feel right, that their friendship meant more to them; but when Scott uses that voice he can’t help but react to it, and goddammit his werewolf superpowers are going to let him know_.  
Stiles hears the sharp intake of breath as Scott’s nose twitches; _Dammit no_ , Stiles thinks, _it’s like I’m Luke pining after Leia before finding out she’s my sister; and that… that makes Scott Leia, and god but he so would **not** look good in her outfit_. And that was enough to kill is arousal.  
“Did you just compare me to Mistress Leia from Star Wars?” Scott’s brow furrows as he glares at Stiles, “You did not picture me in that slave outfit? That is _sooo_ gross.”  
“Yes, yes it was,” Stiles agrees, “so never use your Dom voice on me again and I won’t have to picture you dressed like that. And really I need to not voice every though that goes through my head.”  
“And you need to not react to _my ‘Dom’ voice_ when you’ve been claimed by Danny; especially when you smell like him, did you shower this morning?” Stiles can’t believe Scott just used air quotes talking about his Dom voice.  
“Dude, I showered last night before we slept and again this morning, and I used the smelliest shower gel he had.” Stiles pulls out into traffic and starts the drive to school.

“So, how much of the letter did you read?” Scott finally asks; Stiles glances over to him and can see he is playing with some app on his phone.  
“Enough to know that Jackson initiated a matching request, you’re his best match in the area and age range he selected, but he’s not your best match…” Stiles pauses, then as Scott quirks his eyebrow at him expectantly he quietly continues, “and you’re profiled as a Sadist as well as a Dominant.”  
Allison had once told Scott, during an argument that she must have started, that he was oblivious; he’d told her than no he wasn’t. Later he had looked it up in a dictionary; Oblivious: _unaware, unconscious, unmindful, ignorant, insensible_ ; and okay some of those he had to look up too, but he then had to agree. Yes, he could be oblivious of things that didn’t directly affect him; and it made him a terrible best friend.  
But right now Scott can hear it in the tone of his voice, the beat of his heart and smell it in his scent; his sadness, “Stiles, everything is okay isn’t it?”  
“Sure, whaddya mean?” Stiles pulls a face that he hopes shows _confusion_ and _‘you’re talking crazy’_.  
“You’re not regretting agreeing to Danny’s claim on you as his sub, are you? He is treating you right, your needs are being met right?”  
“Danny is the most caring, considerate Dom a sub could wish for…”  
“But…” Scott knows there was a ‘but’ at the end of Stiles sentence.  
“But…” _every so often I could do with him grabbing me by the front of my shirt and slamming me against a wall like a sourwolf and pressing our bodies so close, and growling next to my ear ‘Mine’, and biting my neck, and chest, and leaving a bruise or mark that showed me I’m his_ , “nothing, everything is fine,” Stiles smiles.  
And Scott hears the lie; he hears the unspoken words, hears it in the heartbeat, and in the ‘fine’; because this is Stiles, and it should be awesome, because Stiles is just that awesome; and Scott sees it in the smile that doesn’t carry to his eyes and doesn’t hide the sadness there or mask it in his scent. Because if Scott could be Stiles Dom he knows he would be a different Dom from Danny; he knows that he would growl in his ear ‘Mine’, that he would mark his sub with bruising bites to his neck where everyone would see, but he can’t; Stiles is his best friend and Scott can’t be his Dom, because Stiles was right, they are Luke and Leia, if Leia had been a boy because Scott is not a girl. So, Scott can only be the worst best friend and be oblivious.  
“Good,” Scott smiles back, “if he doesn’t you let me know and I’ll go all wolfy on his ass until he treats you right.”

“Oh, I need you to ask Allison about something for me,” Scott asks as they are walking from the jeep. Scott’s interrupted by the beep of a message from his phone, and cannot stop the grin that breaks across his face.  
Stiles notices the change in his friend, “What?”  
“It’s the Centre,” Scott answers, “I installed the app this morning and while we were driving here I registered a claim.” Scott can’t stop grinning, he, and his wolf are so happy, “It’s been accepted; Jackson has agreed to be my submissive.”

\--

**Allison & Matt**

“No Matt; I’m really not interested.” Allison was just a little more than exasperated; why wouldn’t this sub just quit.  
“But we’re a match,” he whined, “I paid for ten matches and you’re on the list.”  
Allison pinched her lips together, holding the growing irritation in check, “I also got a list of matches, at the insistence of my parent; there were more than ten matches, and you were way down on the list of compatible submissives,” crossing her arms across her chest she continued, “as I recall despite being assessed as sD34 you are currently contesting the profiling, which is why you currently are still in ‘Gen D/s Studies 102’ and not taking ‘submissive 101’.”  
“That’s my parents’ decision, not mine,” Matt is gazing directly into her eyes, there is something in the way he stares at her that she finds unnerving, “look if you’ll just give me a chance; I know we would be great together.” He reaches out his hand to take hers; she steps back out of his reach, her hands coming down to her side.  
“I said no; that should be end of it.” She turns back on him and strides away.  
Matt shouts after her, “You’re making a big mistake Allison; you should pick me as your sub.”  
Allison continues on, ignoring his outburst; and the whispered gossip of the other students in the hallway.

\--

**Scott & Jackson**

Jackson panicked. _What the fuck had he done? Why had clicked the button to accept Scott’s claim? Why was he now bolting for the toilets instead of signing back in on the app and rescinding the acceptance? He was allowed to change his mind; but the annoying inner voice told him; you clicked on the accept button because that’s what you truly want, you’ve not gone back on to cancel the acceptance because you don’t want to; you want to submit to Scott McCall_.  
Scott tracked Jackson down; he was alone in one of the male toilets; there wasn’t long before classes were due to start. He was still grinning, hadn’t stopped since the message arrived on his phone, as he practically swaggered up to Jackson; the grin faded when he looked at Jackson and he wasn’t looking as happy as Scott was feeling.  
“It was a mistake I didn’t mean to accept,” were the first words Jackson blurted out to him; Scott couldn’t stop the hurt and confused look he wore; Jackson was supposed to be his sub, he was supposed to be his; Scott _knew_ that.

Scott could tell, it was in his heartbeat and the spike in his scent; **_lie_**. He stalked towards him, into his personal space, backing him up against the wall; Scott buried his nose in the crook of Jacksons’ neck inhaling the sweet and spicy undertone of his scent, the scent that said his; and said Jackson was excited.  
Scott felt his jaw distend slightly as his fangs elongated in his mouth; his vision changed as his eyes shifted to their amber glow, “What am I Jackson?” He growled softly in his ear; Jackson imperceptibly vibrated as his scent shifted, fear; Scott frowned in concern and confusion, he could tell Jackson’s arousal had increased, he could smell it; and could feel it in the hardness pressed against his leg. _If he just leaned in a little closer and licked along the exposed skin of his neck he could taste it_.  
Jackson didn’t answer, couldn’t answer; there were so many answers, the first that popped to Jackson’s mind was _you’re my Dom_ ; but he wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , voice it; he was too afraid, _it would change everything_. Even as he felt the fear, he knew it wasn’t a fear of Scott, he could still feel the hardness of himself pressing against Scott’s leg; he couldn’t stop from bowing his head slightly forward and pushing his hip against the pressure of Scott’s leg; he needed some friction.  
At Jackson’s silence Scott let his forehead drop against the side of Jackson’s head, his lips next to his ear. “I’m a werewolf Jackson,” his voice rumbled beside Jackson’s ear, shaking something loose inside him, “it enhances my senses, my hearing, my eyesight, my sense of smell; I can hear the beat of your heart, hearing it quicken; I can detect the difference in your scent as your emotions change, fear, arousal, sadness.”  
A whimper caught in Jackson’s throat, tears threatened at his eyes; his emotions in disarray as his needs and desires warred with his fear of them and what they meant for his future.  
Scott continued, “I can put that all together and I can tell when you are lying.” Jackson slumped forward, leaning his weight on Scott, his tears falling as he gripped Scott tightly; his lifebelt in the emotional turmoil.

Scott wrapped his arms around Jackson and held him just a tightly; he needed to take care of him, to comfort him. He rubbed one hand over Jackson’s back, the other carding through his hair at the back of his head. Scott moved his head until they were resting with foreheads touching. Instinctively he started lapping at the tears flowing from Jacksons’ eyes; washing his face with his tongue, lapping at his cheeks, his nose, and his mouth; until the lapping turned to kissing, and Jackson needing to kiss back.  
They broke apart, Jackson stopping the kisses first. He looked down at the ground, more in embarrassment than submission; and Scott, still partially shifted, could feel the change in his sub, “Jacks, I thought we were starting to get somewhere there; what happened?” his voice was thick and low; the timbre resonating in Jackson making him ache to trust and submit to his Dom.  
“I… I can’t,” Jacksons’ voice is quiet, his eyes cast down.  
Scott is perplexed, his brow creasing in incomprehension; he knows Jackson was enjoying when they kissed, but he knows that he is being truthful in what he is saying. He feels winded at the thought that Jackson wants another as his Dom.  
“You don’t want to submit to me, you don’t want me as your Dom,” Scott quietly states, his fangs having retracted and his eyes returned to normal.  
“No,” is Jacksons’ soft pained reply; _because no he doesn’t want another Dom_.

The hurt Scott feels at Jackson’s rejection is unbearable, _he doesn’t understand why; why it hurts so much worse than breaking up with Allison, why Jackson doesn’t want to be his submissive, Jackson is his, he knows that Jackson is his; his wolf wants to howl_.  
Jackson glances up and sees the stunned, confused and heartbroken look Scott has; he realises that Scott thought he was agreeing with him, “I’m sorry, no, I mean yes,” Jackson blurted out; panicked that he was ruining his chance with the Dominant he was mostly likely to have the life he wanted, and needed, to have with; he had been claimed for less than thirty minutes, “Yes,” this was so hard to say, why was this so hard to say, “I want to submit to you, I want you as my Dom,” it felt so good to finally say those words out loud.  
“But… I just can’t, I can’t let go and give the submission I want to.” Jackson’s head fell, humiliated at admitting his failure as a submissive.  
Scott grabs Jackson’s head in his hands and forces him to look at him, searching his eyes as he asks, “You want to submit to me?”  
“Yes.”  
“You want to be my submissive?”  
“Yes.”  
“Then let go Jackson,” Scott smiles, Jackson wants to be his, “Let go and I’ll catch you, I’ll take care of you; because that’s what your Dom should do. It’s not just you about submitting to their needs, your Dom has to make sure your needs are satisfied too.”  
“Why me Scott?” Scott isn’t sure what Jackson is asking.  
“Why do you want me as your sub when there’s someone who’s a better match for you?”  
Scott’s grin is almost feral; he knows, just knows that Jackson is going to be his, “Jacks, would you be comfortable being collared by Danny and submitting to him?”  
“God no,” Jackson exclaims, “I was so glad he wasn’t a match, that would have been…” and then he gets it, “The matching process would appear to have a flaw; it doesn’t take account of friendships that feel familial,” at Scott’s slightly confused expression he adds, “like family.”  
“Exactly, I couldn’t top Stiles any more than you could bottom for Danny,” Scott’s grinning at him and Jackson can feel the twitch of a smile of his own, maybe, just maybe he could finally do this.  
“I know this isn’t easy for you Jacks,” Scott is moving back closer to him; Jackson can see how hopeful Scott looks, “but being submissive doesn’t make you any less of a person, and being Dominant doesn’t make me a better person; and us being a match doesn’t make everything automatically work between us first time, but we can work at it together. I know we can; that I can be the Dom you need and that you are the sub I need. Just give us a chance; submitting is not going to change the person you are, you’ll still be the same Jackson Whittemore.”  
“Okay,” Jackson can’t believe he said it; he feels light headed and looks at Scott who’s beaming and looking so joyous. Jackson quickly ducks his head down to try and hide the snicker. His own smile dropped when he looked back up and saw the confused look on his Dom’s face, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you,” he quickly says.  
Jackson swallows, his Adams’-apple bobbing, before he continued uncertainly, “It’s just you looked so happy, and the grin you had made me think of a word that Lydia used, I think it was Lydia, ‘Adorkable’; really it’s a compliment, kinda, it’s like nerdy and adorable.” Suddenly Jackson thinks _I need to not sit next to Stiles in Sub-101 because not knowing when to shut the fuck up is clearly contagious_.

Scott wraps his arms around him and ducks his head into the crook of Jackson’s neck; he inhales deeply of his scent, the sweet spicy scent that makes him want to roll into and cover himself in its warmth.  
“I want to mark you so people know you’re mine.” Scott breathed against his neck.  
“You’re not angry with me?” Jackson warily asks, “You’ve not changed your mind and want to withdraw your claim?” Jackson drops his head back against the wall with a groan. _What the fuck is wrong with you? Why put ideas like that in his head when you’ve finally, finally been able to admit you want to submit? Just say yes then shut the fuck up_.  
“You just said you thought I was adorable, why would I want to do that?” Scott smiles at him.

Scott can smell his subs arousal; can feel him painfully hard and pressing against his thigh resting against his crotch as he bites and licks and nips at his neck; scraping his fangs over the flesh, his amber eyes blown in lust. His subs hands are fisted in Scott’s hair, as he marks and claims his ownership of his sub.  
Jackson’s eyes are glassy and half-lidded as he ruts against Scott’s leg in heat, as he gasps and moans, “Please, yes, fuck, Scott, Sir, please…”

Jackson opens his eyes to find himself sitting on the counter top beside one of the sinks; his pants and underwear around his ankles; Scott is cleaning his crotch with his tongue, _his Dom is licking along his now hardening shaft after making him come in his pants_.  
“I…” he can’t think what to say.  
Scott stops his attentions to cleaning him up and smiles, “We’re late for class.” He checks Jacksons’ neck where he was marking him; Jackson wants to see it.  
“What…” _seriously, has he lost all cognitive ability that he can’t string a sentence together?_ “How do we work this?”  
“We’ll talk after the game tonight, okay?”  
“Okay, I should head to class; Harris will chew me out for being late, he’s been a snarky bitch since I turned up in his sub-101 class.”  
“ ** _No_** ,” Scott essentially snarls, _no-one mistreats his Jackson_ , “you tell him your Dom held you back to do something for him. He can’t hold you responsible for that.” Scott leans in and kisses him; Jackson can taste himself on his lips. Strangely it doesn’t gross him out; it makes him wonder what Scott tastes like and how long it will be until he can find out.

He’s tucking his shirt back into his pants as Scott leaves; he looks in the mirror and can see the start of the bruise on his neck where Scott was sucking and biting; it’s going to be big and last for a while, but he doesn’t think Scott will let it go away. He smiles at the thought; and thinks to himself Scott’s wrong, this does change everything, he’s not the same Jackson Whittemore; he feels… calm, he doesn’t feel the driving need to prove he belongs, probably, for the first time since he found out he was adopted; with the bruising mark on his neck he knows he belongs, where he belongs; even if it is kneeling at his Masters’ feet; _wait his Dom’s feet, Scott’s his Dom, why did he think Master?_

\--

**Lacrosse Match**

Jackson hears the snap of bone and is sprinting across the pitch to Scott; he sees Allison running there to, and he needs to reach him first. Allison and Jackson are holding Scott up, each of them under one arm, by the time Grandpa Hunter and Scott’s mom get there. Scott’s almost healed; and they are trying to convince Allisons’ Granddad and Scott’s mom that nothing was broken. They seem to get away with it.  
Jackson can’t seem to stop himself scowling whenever he looks in Allison’s direction; but when Scott accepts the invite to Allison’s parents for dinner from her Granddad he doesn’t feel so bad about the looks he’s given Allison, or how he might be letting Scott down by his behaviour to her. They had plans; Scott was supposed to be meeting with him so they could start defining how their relationship was to work.

He tries not to let it show how upset, no he’s not upset, how angry he is; Scott said that morning that both their needs were important and that he would make sure Jackson’s needs were met and not just use Jackson to meet his. But now, now Jackson isn’t so sure.  
“Jackson,” Scott’s bark pulls him out of his contemplation; Jackson can tell by the scowl that Scott’s not happy; Scott’s voice is still authoritative when he continues, “I know we had plans, and I’d rather be meeting with you; but I can’t let Allison’s Granddad get suspicious of me.”  
“Why couldn’t you have said you had plans?” Jackson hates that his voice sounds so whiney.  
“I just said,” Jackson submissively drops his gaze to the ground at the tone of Scott’s voice; Scott moves closer to him, breathing in his scent, continuing more calmly, “I don’t want to give Allison’s grandfather any reason to suspect I’m not human; but I also need to find something he has, this could give Allison and I a chance to find it. I’ll call after I leave, we’ll talk then, and meet up tomorrow before classes; you can think of what might be suitable punishments for you.”  
Jackson pales slightly, “Punishments?”  
Scott’s smiling at him, “Not for now; we haven’t _defined the boundaries_ of our relationship yet,” Jackson feels that Scott is just using a phrase he has heard in class, it doesn’t sound like Scott’s own words, “so I haven’t set rules of what you’re allowed to do and not; so the stink-eye you were giving Allison slides, for now; but one of the things we need to agree on is how I punish you when you do break the rules.” Scott pulls him into a hug, “And it needs to be something that you won’t enjoy when we’re playing.”  
 _As Scott walks away from him Jackson still feels uneasy, like something is slipping from his grasp; Scott was totally besotted with Allison, and he’s more dominant than her, maybe he thinks he could win her back and make her submit to him? Maybe he’s thinking of trying to get back with her and they’ll share a submissive, Jackson doesn’t want to be shared; he wants to serve one person, Scott; he wants one Master_.

\--

**Derek & Stiles**

Derek hangs loosely in Stiles grasp; they’ve been in the pool for what feels like over an hour. All Derek can think is _this isn’t right; Stiles arms wrapped around him, holding him up, keeping him alive; he should be holding him, protecting him, and keeping Stiles, his Mate, safe from the creature_.

 _Stiles knows he’s tiring, he won’t be able to keep treading water and holding Derek up for much longer; still, if he survives this Danny will have to punish him, he was already late before they ended up in the pool. Surely this time he’ll deserve a spanking; Danny’s hands are fairly big, at least as big as sourwolfs, they ought to warm him up, bring some colour to him; he should feel the sting as Danny’s hands connect with his ass, over and over. Sourwolf said that Stiles couldn’t imagine what he could do with his hands; would it be any different, would his supernatural strength add any more bite to the sting from his hand, would he just bite using his blunted human teeth, or his fangs, but that wouldn’t really be using his hands and…_ “Oh my god I hope the chlorine in the water helps mask any scent coming off me right now…”

“Yes, Stiles the chlorine is masking, but your erection is still poking me in the back; I may be paralysed from the neck down but I still have…” Derek doesn’t finish his sentence as in Stiles immediate panic he lets go and Derek is suddenly under the water; until Stiles grabs him and pulls him back up, grasping him around the waist with one arm, _hand sliding over firm abs_ , and putting one of Derek’s arms over his shoulder.  
“Don’t do that again,” Derek barely growls at him.  
“Sorry, but you kinda startled me,” Stiles contritely answers; trying not to look at Derek.  
“If just holding on to me gets you so hard maybe your Dom isn’t taking very good care of your needs.”  
Derek’s voice is all growly in his ear; Stiles doesn’t really think it through before answering, “It wasn’t just the holding on to you, I was thinking about the possibility of Danny spanking me in punishment for being late.” Suddenly feeling very hot and certain that his skin has turned the strongest shade of pink, Stiles add, “and I really need to learn when to not talk.”  
“Stiles, if you’re looking forward to it, and getting that hard at the thought of it; either you’re Dom isn’t the right Dom for you or he isn’t punishing you properly,” when Derek pauses Stiles silently thinks, isn’t punishing me at all.  
“If he needs any pointers tell him I’d gladly show him how to properly administer a punishment spanking.”

Derek finds himself under the water again; Stiles didn’t drop him out of surprise or shock, this time it was deliberate indignation.

\--

Later after Scott has pulled them from the pool, the creature, which Derek now tells them is a Kanima, has fled, they have a copy of the ‘bestiary’ and Stiles still can’t get over how Scott thought it was ‘bestiality’; and Stiles is now home he sends Danny a message to say something came up, he really wishes on reflection that he had worded that differently, and as he was so late he’ll see him tomorrow.  
Because he can’t go and submit to Danny tonight; thanks to a certain Mr Sourwolf who gets in his space and in his head and confuses all his thoughts he knows he wouldn’t be thinking of Danny while he submitted; and that wouldn’t be fair to Danny. _Danny deserves better_.


	9. Dilemma

Danny wasn’t happy; **_screw that he was pissed_**. Seriously, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this riled. He was sure things had been going well with Stiles; there had been a few issues, Stiles seemed to be more submissive than he had thought; wanted a bit more control than he was used to giving, but dammit they were working through things; learning what each other required. It’s not like he can collar Stiles until they have both graduated high-school; so they have time to work out their relationship.  
Now someone else has made a claim on him; Stiles had told him who, only that the claim exists. While an accepted claim is a precursor to being collared, and is recognised, it is not as binding as having a collared submissive; collaring involves legal documents and signatures, claiming is a lot simpler. The Dom registers their claim on a sub; the submissive can then accept the Dominant’s claim to them, reject it or rescind an accepted claim. Like an engaged couple calling off the wedding; where once you have collared your sub it’s more like getting divorced, only more difficult. Stiles hasn’t rescinded Danny’s claim, however, Stiles hasn’t said that he’s rejected the new claim, _only that he hasn’t accepted it_ ; but Danny is not giving him up without a fight.

\--

Derek knows his Mate is unhappy; has known since the night his Mate had to keep him alive in the pool and not let him drown. It’s been gnawing at him; festering and coiling round in him until he needed to punch something, or rip its throat out. But it’s not like he can punch himself or rip his own throat out; so that hasn’t happened. It’s his fault his Mate is not happy; he let someone else claim him; he let someone else make Stiles submit to them when he should be submitting to him. But after what he did to Isaac he couldn’t trust himself with Stiles; _Stiles is human and would not have survived what he did to Isaac_. He really thought that it was best for Stiles to be with someone else; but **_they_** are not meeting all his needs. Derek knew how Stiles reacted to him; Derek enjoyed how he reacted to him, would replay every change in scent, every skip of his heartbeat, every flush of colour to his skin.  
So he made his claim; his Mate hasn’t rejected it, but he hasn’t accepted it either. **_He_** _needs_ to make his Mate happy, needs to be sure that they are being treated the way they need. He’ll fight tooth and claw to ensure it; and if it comes down to that he knows he has the better teeth and claws.

\--

Isaac wasn’t happy; it was making him irritable, and causing him to strike out at his pack; Erica and Boyd, even sniping at Derek to try and get a reaction from him. Derek didn’t give him the reaction he wanted. No matter what Isaac did, nor how submissive he reacted to his Alpha he would not allow Isaac to submit as he had the night off the full moon. Sure some of, or even a lot of, what Derek needed was rougher than Isaac wanted, but he could adapt. It wasn’t like the abuse he had endured at the hands of his father; it wasn’t out of anger or hate, it was an expression of his desire.  
He knew Derek didn’t love him, not in the way Isaac yearned to be loved, but he did care for him; and Isaac could settle for that, if Derek would permit him. But Derek didn’t, every time Isaac tried to show Derek he was willing… he shut him out.  
It served to remind Isaac of his fathers’ words; _such a pathetic sub_.

\--

_Stiles was naked; he was on his knees; the leather cuffs around his wrists where connected behind his back locking his arms behind him; a steel chain was looped through the D-rings of the cuffs and locked to the D-rings on the similar leather cuffs around his ankles that were connected to the opposite ends of the spreader-bar. There was another two steel chains, one from each ankle cuff, that each connected to the D-ring at the back of the wide, thick, black leather collar around his neck; forcing him to keep his back straight and his gaze forward, he had been warned to keep his eyes open. The metal O-ring forced his mouth open and was strapped in place, fastened at the back of his head.  
His saliva pooled in his mouth and spilled down his chin, dripping on to his chest and trickled downward towards his taut stomach; his hardened length jutted in front of him clearly showing his arousal._

_The sight in front of him causing flare of lust was a naked Derek Hale sitting on Danny’s bed with an equally naked Danny held down over Derek’s naked lap; Derek his holding Danny in place with one hand forcing Danny’s arms up into the small of his back, Danny’s legs are trapped underneath one of Derek’s legs. Despite Danny’s struggles to free himself from Derek’s grasp the alpha werewolf is too strong for him to do so._

_“Please, no, don’t do this,” Danny whimpers and pleads.  
“I need to show you how to take care of Stiles needs, I promised him I would teach you how to spank him,” Derek scowls down at him.  
Derek’s right arm pulls back, stretching his pectoral muscles tight, Stiles wonders if he shaves or waxes because for a werewolf his chest is seriously smooth and devoid of hair; Stiles eyes widen, not fully believing the scene in front of him as Derek’s hand comes smacking down on Danny’s upturned ass, over and over; slowly turning Danny’s buttocks a crimson red, as the skin is inflamed and heated. Danny bucks and screams and tries to dislodge the alpha’s grip; but he is held tight in place as Derek’s hand rains down on him, again and again; the sound SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, interspersed with Danny’s cries and gulps of laboured breath.  
Stiles can see that Danny is not enjoying the alpha’s attention; his cock remaining soft and flaccid, while Derek’s own member is rigid and flush against is abdomen, his pre-come flowing down over the shaft and dripping over the prone Dominant being spanked. Stiles own hardness twitching as he moans in need._

_When Derek finishes spanking Danny his ass is a blaze of red; Danny having long given up struggling allows Derek to throw him over the end of the bed, his knees on the floor; kicked apart exposing his puckered flesh. Danny doesn’t move while Derek fetches the bottle of lube from the bedside cabinet.  
Derek squeezes the bottle dribbling the cold viscous liquid over his fingers before applying it to Danny’s anus. Sliding his fingers over the tight hole, slicking the liquid over and around; teasing Danny until one finger can slip inside. Derek applies more lube directly to the tight opening his finger is still slowly sliding in and out of; he brings a second finger flush with the first and on the next push forward both breach inside Danny. Derek increases the pace of the thrusting of his fingers, scissoring them, opening and preparing Danny for more.  
Stiles own ass clenches in need to feel something in him as his hard cock spasms, dripping pre-come in his increasing state of desire.  
Derek’s fingers are replaced; his unsheathed cock forcing its way down into Danny’s tight ring of muscle.  
“God, no, please, don’t,” Danny cries as he feels the burn of Derek’s entry.  
“I need to make you understand Stiles needs,” Derek quietly growls next to Danny’s ear.  
Derek quickly increases the speed and force of his thrusts; the slap of his hips against Danny’s scarlet inflamed checks the only other sounds in the room are Danny’s cries, the rumbling roar deep in Derek’s chest and Stiles needy moans.  
Danny’s erection is caught in the tangle of bedclothes as Derek constantly thrusts against that spot deep inside him; the friction of the sheets against him and the stimulation of his sweet spot causing him to release his seed, as Derek roars his own climax; filling Danny with his load._

_Derek pulls out of Danny and walks over to the bound, kneeling figure of Stiles. He pushes his still engorged cock into his mouth, still forced open by the ring, and orders, “Lick it clean.”  
Stiles tongue washes over the hard tube of flesh as best he can. Satisfied by his efforts Derek forces him to crawl over to Danny; placing him between Danny’s spread legs, he pushes Stiles face between the reddened cheeks.  
“Clean out his ass; lick every drop of me from his well fucked hole,” Derek’s timbre is low and his words roll against Stiles with need.  
Stiles’ tongue snakes out through the metal ring holding his mouth open; his saliva coated chin resting against Danny’s taint as he cleans the detritus of Derek’s desire from his abused hole. As his tongue burrows into Danny he feels the hard blunt tip of Derek at his own puckered entrance; pushing, forcing its way in.  
Soon Stiles desire and need is building as he moans his breath over Danny’s licked clean flesh and Derek swells inside him with short quick sharp thrusts; Derek’s claws rake up along the sides of his torso as he leans over Stiles’ back, licking and nibbling his ear.  
“This is what you need Stiles,” his voice thick with need and want, “this is how you should be made to submit; this is why I should be your Dom.”  
Stiles moans around the metal in his mouth, his saliva flowing over Danny’s ass.  
“Come for me Stiles; come for me shouting the name of your Dom…”_

\--

“Derek,” Stiles roars jolting up in the bed as his hardness throbs releasing its pearlescent sticky fluid in the bed-sheets. Stiles is sleepily disoriented; there is no Derek, he isn’t bound in leather and chains, and Danny’s ass isn’t reddened sore.  
Danny’s hand falls from Stiles’ chest; as Stiles turns round to see his thunderous look.  
 _Fuck my life_ ; is all Stiles can think.


	10. Fallout

Danny is sore, _very sore_ ; his lip is swollen and split; his left eye is swollen and blackened; his body has been scratched, battered and bruised. He’s not sure, but suspects he may have a cracked rib. He seriously fucked-up; and now he is paying for it.  
He grabs the first bottle of _whatever_ and pours a glass, knocking it back in one gulp; the vodka burns his throat as it goes down and stings his cut lip. He pours another; and another in quick succession. The tears threaten to fall, but he won’t; not for his own stupid mistakes, but the biggest mistake, biggest regret, is having lost Stiles by trying to give him what he needed; what he needed but never asked Danny for, just accepting what Danny gave him; even when it really wasn’t enough.

It started to go wrong the night Stiles had that dream; of Derek. When Stiles woke him by crying out the other Dom’s name at, _Danny snorts derisively at the thought_ , the climax of the dream he was both furious and crushed that his submissive had that intense a reaction to a dream about another Dom. He was too hurt and angry to listen then and there; he remembers Stiles trying to explain, to apologise…

**_Previously…_ **

_“Danny, Sir, I’m sorry… it’s just…”  
But he interrupted, biting out, “Just clean yourself up and change the sheets.”  
Storming off to the master bathroom to allow himself space, and time, get control of his emotions; leaving Stiles to clean up in the on-suite._

When Danny returned to the room Stiles was kneeling by the side of the bed; the bedding changed and the smell of air freshener hanging in the room.  
Stiles has clearly been crying, the tracks of his tears staining his cheeks; Danny is glad he showered. Stiles immediately starts apologising again as Danny enters the room; Danny cuts him off holding up his hand, his voice slightly strained, “Stiles, not now; please, we’ll talk about it in the morning.”  
“Please Danny…”  
“ ** _STILES NOT NOW!_** Jesus, I knew you had trouble knowing when to **_shut the fuck up_** , but seriously, even in your sleep or when your Dominant tells you to shut the fuck up…” Danny stops mid-sentence the harsh venomous tone of his outburst shocking both of them.  
Stiles drops his eyes to the floor in front of Danny; his cheeks freshly damp.  
“Get in the bed,” Danny murmurs, afraid to give vocal sound to his words for fear that he starts shouting again, “we’ll talk in the morning.”  
Timidly Stiles crawls into the bed, unsure whether to wrap himself in Danny’s embrace as he normally does or stay where he is; and as Danny slips between the covers he leaves him on the other side of the bed; turning on his side Danny buries his face into the pillow, hiding the dampness at his own eyes.

**_Now…_ **

Danny pours himself another drink, he remembers that he didn’t get the full story of the dream from Stiles, he said he couldn’t remember most of what he had dreamed; Danny wasn’t so sure that was the case. He got enough to know that Stiles was more of a masochist that Danny had thought; and it was well outwith Danny’s comfort zone; Danny was happy with a bit of leather, more than happy; but for Stiles he said he wanted to try.  
Stiles kept saying he didn’t have to; that he was happy with how things were between them. But that wasn’t true, _clearly that wasn’t true_. Otherwise Stiles wouldn’t be having dreams of getting what he needs from another Dom; _another Dom that had registered a claim on him_. It didn’t take much of the sleepless night for Danny to work-out that Derek Hale was the Dom making a claim for Stiles.  
From Stiles’ recollection of the dream Danny decided to get some of items dream-Derek used; spreader-bar, cuffs with D-rings and chains that could be clipped joining the cuffs on his wrist to the ones on his ankles. He also bought some wooden paddles, a flogger, a crop, and a ball-gag.

Things started well enough. The gleam in Stiles eyes when he saw the items that Danny had bought; the rise in his need as Danny stroked a gloved hand over his naked ass, giving a playful slap as they discussed safe-words.  
Danny had Stiles stretch out on the bed lying face down, his arms above him chained to the head of the bed; the spreader-bar keeping his legs spaced out. He got him to kneel; he was clearly aroused, and at this point so was Danny.

Danny started by spanking Stiles, his hands still in the leather gloves; the spanking was slow, the irregular cadence increasing over time. Both Danny and Stiles remained hard throughout. As Danny switched to the other implements his arousal waned; the increase in pain and marking to Stiles body decreasing Danny’s pleasure. He became concerned that his own lack of enjoyment was diluting the effort he applied to ensure Stiles received the same experience.  
The problem was he was so locked in his own head, in the fact that he wasn’t enjoying doing this, that he was trying to ensure his strikes with the crop or flogger still had the same strength behind them, he hadn’t noticed that Stiles was no-longer moaning in pleasure, but sobbing in pain and his hardened length had long lost its tumescence. Danny cursed his stupidity; it was all very well giving Stiles a safe-word, but how was he supposed to use it when he was gagged; they should have agreed signals for when Stiles couldn’t speak.  
Realising what he had done he quickly released Stiles from the bondage, and retrieving the first aid kit attended to the wounds he had unintentionally inflicted; cleaning and sterilising the broken skin.  
Stiles flinched from his touch; Danny cursed himself for being so stupid. He shouldn’t have gone beyond the spanking and bondage; when he lost interest in the scene rather than try to push forward and continue he should have gone back, stuck to the actions that had worked for both of them; but he had known Stiles had been interested in more; he hadn’t wanted to admit that he couldn’t satisfy his submissive, and in the end he hadn’t satisfied him but caused some severe damage. _He was failing as Stiles’ Dom; maybe just failing as a Dom_.

Stiles had not wanted to stay with him; Danny knew he couldn’t be left on his own so had only agreed to take Stiles back to his home if he would have someone there to stay with him and take care of him. With the sheriff working late Stiles had called someone, Isaac Lahey, to meet them there; Danny recognised the name, he was one of the submissives on the lacrosse team.  
When they got to Stiles’ house Isaac wasn’t alone; Derek Hale was there too.

Danny pours himself another drink, because what happened next; really, _maybe he is in shock too and it was just a hallucination_ , but the scratches, _no not scratches_ , **_the claw marks_** stripping his chest say it really happened.

Hales’ nostrils flared at the sight of the clearly distressed Stiles. Danny saw Hale tear towards him, really fast, _no actually faster than that_ ; next thing he knows he’s being knocked to the ground and some hairy red-eyed monster is pounding on his face, claws ripping through his clothes.  
Stiles is in the background pleading, “No, Derek, don’t, he didn’t mean it.”  
Lahey suddenly at his side, hand on Derek’s shoulder; his head turned to the side, eyes cast down; desperately imploring Derek to stop, _for Stiles, he doesn’t want him to do this_. And Danny can see that Lahey too has turned into some kind of hairy monster, with amber glowing eyes, and fang-like teeth.  
Hale does stop, turning to look at Stiles, trembling in distress; he’s promptly not on top of Danny, no longer looking like some feral wild animal and is comforting Stiles. Danny backward crawled to his car. He made his way to the emergency room at the hospital; claimed he was attacked by a wild animal, dog or something, the eye and lip cut and bruised from hitting his head while escaping from it; and now he is here, home sitting on the couch, pouring his fifth drink? _sixth drink?_

\--

Danny awoke to the blinding painful light of the sun streaming in through the window; matched with the loud, pounding, throbbing pain in his head. He looked over at the empty glass laying on its side, and the half empty bottle of vodka; the disaster that became of his relationship with Stiles flooding back, and dawning of the memory of scary monsters seeping into his consciousness.  
He’s about to search for some Tylenol when he realises that not all the pounding is in his head; someone is pounding on the door; he feels his heart-rate increase , the pounding in his chest almost matching the pounding in his head.

Danny pulls the door open a crack; peering through the opening, eyes squinting in pain from the sunlight, he sees Lahey standing on the porch. Lahey’s eyes widen on first looking at him, then he drops his gaze, his hands clasping behind his back.  
“Danny, um, Sir, ah, can I come in?” Isaac can hear the quickening of the Dom’s heart; can smell the increase in fear from him, “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to talk.”  
“Could I stop you if you were?” Danny asks, covering the tremor in his voice; Isaac still picks up on it, “No, you couldn’t.”  
Danny steps aside allowing Isaac in.

Danny catches a glimpse of himself in a hallway mirror; his lip puffy, cut and bruised; his eye swollen, half-closed and blackened with bruises. He looks worse than yesterday; and he is still wearing the torn shirt from last night, the scratches/claw marks on his chest still covered in the blood soaked bandages applied at the emergency room.

He turns to Lahey, “What do you want?”  
“I came to check that you were all right; if you hadn’t answered I was about to break the door down,” Isaac smirks at him, “or find an open window.”  
At the indignant look on Danny’s face Isaac drops his gaze to the floor.  
“That what you…” Danny is not sure what to call Isaac or Derek, are they people, animals, monsters? “creatures do? Just go where you like, do what you like, take what you like?” he asks gesturing wildly.  
Isaac hears the hurt in Danny’s voice; take what you like, Derek didn’t take, he waited for Stiles; “We’re not creatures, nor monsters; we’re people, just a bit different from most.”  
He smells the blood weeping from the freshly opened wounds; he moves closer to Danny, “Let me take a look at the wounds; you’ve reopened them.”  
He hears Danny’s heartbeat, the increase in timing as he moves closer, fingers brushing against Danny’s exposed skin as he eases the bandage off. Isaac bends his head forward and laps at the cuts left by his Alpha’s claws.  
Danny doesn’t stop him, merely stands, staring down in fear and wonderment. The fear receding as the sting of the tracks gouged into his flesh tingles to nothing, scars left in place of the dark red, open wounds. Isaac languorously works his way up Danny’s body, licking and nuzzling at his flesh; working up along his neck to his lip, lapping at the cut, swollen flesh; lightly grazing over Danny’s teeth, softly flickering over Danny’s own tongue. Isaac’s licking makes it way to Danny’s eye, cleansing the bruised flesh of the ocular socket with gentle lapping.

Danny feels the difference in his body, the aches dulled, the swelling of his lip and eye reduced.  
“What are you?” he asks as Isaac steps back from him; his hands clasped behind him as they had remained throughout, eyes cast downward. Danny recalls some of Stiles’ bookmarks saved on his browser from when he borrowed his tablet; _sites relating to lycanthropy, werewolves; lots of sites on werewolves_.  
“A submissive looking for a Dominant to serve,” is Isaacs’ quiet response, he can hear that Danny’s heartbeat hasn’t slowed; he’s still on edge.  
Danny can’t decide if the alcohol in his system is responsible, but he doesn’t believe that his life is in danger; not like it was with Hale last night, and Lahey did save him, and his licking; _Danny really doesn’t want to think too much about that right now, it definitely affected more than just taking the pain away_ ; Danny couldn’t keep the assertiveness from his voice, “Wasn’t really what I was asking.”  
Isaac suddenly looks nervous, eyes cast down, his whole stance and demeanour submissive, “Please…”  
Danny finds his dominant nature surging to make the submissive obey, “Please what?” there’s a power to his voice; assertive and demanding to be acceded.  
Isaacs’ eyes dart between Danny and the floor, “Please, don’t use that voice; I’m not your submissive, I’m not anyone’s submissive.”  
Danny can hear that there is pain behind that last statement; can sense the hurt, not anyone’s; he can discern Isaac’s need to belong.  
“How is Stiles?” Danny asks, cerebrally berating himself, _seriously, it’s taken him this long to think about asking how Stiles is doing; his sub should have been his first priority; is Stiles still his sub?_  
“He’s fine, still a little freaked-out,” Isaac pauses before finishing, “Derek healed his wounds like I healed yours.” Isaac could tell from Danny’s change in scent, change in demeanour; the assertiveness of his Dominance that he no-longer feared him as he had originally, “What changed, why aren’t you afraid now?”  
“I’m guessing if you were here to finish what Hale started you would have done it by now; do you want me to be afraid of you?”  
“No.” Isaac looks directly into Danny’s eyes, “I want you to claim me.”  
Danny’s cell phone rang; he looked at the screen, it was Stiles.

\--

Danny lets the water cascade over him; the rivulets flowing down across his back as he lays his head forward onto the cool tile of the shower. He left the werewolf, _because that’s the only sensible conclusion, at least it’s better than he’s losing his mind_ , downstairs; he need space to think, he needed to clear his mind and sober up.  
Lahey confused him, and not just because of how he reacted to being licked by him; his level of submissiveness seemed to shift, the very fact he even started to lick him Danny finds incongruous with the levels of submissive behaviours seen after. The licking itself was so forceful, measured and sensual; **_fuck it was sensual_**.  
,i >Lahey told him Derek healed Stiles wounds that way, did Derek’s licking arouse Stiles the way Isaac had affected him? Stiles wasn’t his sub anymore. It was a mutual agreement, over the phone; but when Stiles said that Danny should find a more suitable sub and he a more suitable Dom, damnit, he couldn’t stop the bitchy comment ‘I think you already have someone lined up and waiting there’. Stiles hung up on him.  
The Tylenol he finally took was kicking in, the pounding receding to a quieter ache. _He was sad at his relationship with Stiles ending, he felt bad for how it ended; but shouldn’t he be feeling more than this? It wasn’t that he didn’t care it was over; it was that he didn’t care enough. He thought Stiles meant more to him than that; he tried to be more of the Dom that Stiles needed, and failed, but was that just because he felt as a good Dom he ought to, rather than he wanted to? Maybe if he really wanted to he wouldn’t have failed_.

Danny hears the shower door open behind him; he turns to see a naked Isaac Lahey entering the shower with him. **_What the fuck!_**  
Danny clearly didn’t keep his astonishment off his face as Isaac immediately looks nervously to the shower floor, stammering, “I… I’m sorry… I thought… It’s just I could feel you were upset and… and I thought maybe if… It’s just that earlier, when I was licking you, you were enjoying that… and I thought maybe I could comfort you again.”  
Danny observed how submissively Isaac was standing there, naked, hands clasped behind him, the water from the shower head splashing over him and onto Isaac’s face and chest; his face turned slightly to the right, the left side of his neck exposed and vulnerable… _left side of his neck, like he did with Hale last night; left side of his neck, where Jackson always has the hickey from Scott…_  
“Is Jackson a werewolf too?” Danny’s question startles Isaac; the command in Danny’s voice clearly showing his reaction to Isaac’s submissiveness.  
“No,” Isaac’s panicked answer as his gaze flickers from the floor to Danny’s face and back. Isaac can see Danny mull over his answer.  
“Then it’s McCall,” Danny states decisively; cupping the back of Isaac’s neck and pulling him towards him, he grabs a fistful of Isaac’s wet curls and pulls his head back and to the side; exposing the slender white neck he bites down around the carotid artery with human blunt teeth; licking and biting and scrapping; marking the flesh.  
“No, Sir, you don’t know what…” Isaac tries to warn him just what this means to him, to other werewolves.  
“I’m making you as mine, right?” Danny confirms between bites, “You do still want me to claim you don’t you?”  
“Yes Sir, please…” Isaac’s words lost in a moan of agreement as Danny pulls him further under the cascading water.

\--

“You’ll need to teach me what your being a werewolf means in relation to you being my submissive,” Danny states looking over at the naked sub lying on his bed. Isaac has just finished texting when Danny’s phone pings.  
“Yes sir,” Isaac replies as Danny checks his messages; the confirmation from the Centre that Isaac has accepted him as his Dom.  
Danny lays his phone down and crawls up along the bed, over the top of Isaac; they are both naked, neither having dressed since leaving the shower. Danny checks the bruising bite mark he left on Isaac’s neck; it’s already fading as Isaac’s healing kicks in.  
“I’ll need to freshen that in the morning won’t I?” Danny enquires, leaning down to take a kiss from Isaac’s lips.  
“Yes sir,” Isaac happily breathed into his mouth between kisses.

Danny’s mouth languidly trailed kisses, licks and nips down Isaac’s torso, attention paid to his sensitive nipples. He licked down along his shaft, lying hard against his stomach, nipping at the head eliciting needy, desirous gasps from Isaac.  
“Arms straight above you grab the headboard and don’t let go.” Danny commanded; Isaac obeyed immediately.  
Danny grabbed Isaac’s legs and pulled them up, bending Isaac over at the waist until his legs were bent with his knees either side of his torso; his ass in the air, spread open for his access.  
As Danny plied the sub with his mouth, his moans of pleasure filled the air; Danny’s tongue flicked and swirled over the puckered flesh, wetting the entrance utterly. Once Isaac’s opening was relaxed against his tongue, Danny slicked two fingers and slowly worked them inside.  
“Yes sir, please Danny sir…”  
Danny looked up into the face of his sub and saw the need to submit shining in his gold lit eyes. He reached over to the bedside cabinet opening the drawer to remove the lube and condom.  
“Don’t need that sir,” Isaac gasped in need, “werewolf; can’t catch and don’t carry any disease.”  
Danny tossed the packet aside; he worked more lubricant into Isaac, his fingers sliding back and forth through his tight ring of muscle, scissoring over his prostrate and slicked his hardened shaft.

Danny pushed his length deep into Isaac, held himself still as the warm tunnel clutched at him; Isaac’s legs snaked around him, holding him as he bent his head down to take a kiss from his sub; Isaac stretching up to claim his Dom’s mouth.  
Danny leisurely pulled back until just the head of his shaft breached Isaac’s warm depths; Isaac’s legs tightened, pulling him back in, Danny kept the pace slow and measured; claiming Isaac’s mouth in a possessive kiss; his hips moving in maddeningly slow thrusts; owning and loving Isaac’s body.  
Isaac feels the friction against his own rigid flesh, slick with his pre-come, as Danny’s taut abs brush over and push him against his own torso. He feels the need building in him; the need to…  
Danny pulls his mouth from Isaac’s, “Wait.”  
Danny’s thrusts increase in pace and power, slamming into Isaac; drawing gasps and moans, until he reclaims his mouth, licking and biting his lips, “Come Pup,” as Danny swells and releases himself in Isaac.

\--

Isaac lies wrapped in Danny’s arms, coated in his scent. He’s done as his alpha asked, and gotten what he wanted; win-win like his alpha said. Now he just needs to be the submissive his Dom wants; he needs to be himself.


	11. Derek and Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I posted this at 3am then found when looking at it this morning that I had missed the last couple of pages from the posting. So I deleted the chapter and re-posted.
> 
> It hasn't been proof-read so all mistakes are mine.

Derek can smell the blood before Stiles is out of Danny’s car; can sense Stiles distress, knows it is Stiles blood that is filling his nostrils. He can’t control himself; his wolf just pushes forward and takes over. He’s on top of Danny; Danny hurt his Mate. He’s barely aware of his Mate whimpering ‘Don’t’; it takes his beta’s hand on him, pleading not to cause his Mate more distress, for him to be able to pull back control from his wolf.  
Danny flees. Derek is horrified at himself, losing control, causing more suffering for his Mate by attacking his current Dom. Derek had to comfort his Mate, he had to make things right.

 _Stiles shouldn’t really have been surprised that Derek was there, he knew Isaac was part of Derek’s pack; and if he was honest with himself, he was glad he was; because no matter what was happening, if Derek was there he felt safer, comforted in the knowledge that everything was going to turn out for the best_.

\--

Stiles is naked face-down on his bed; he’s sleeping. Derek is sitting on the chair by his computer desk. Isaac is standing by the window; arms wrapped around himself, he’s picking up his Alpha’s emotional turmoil, his anger; he can even hear Derek’s teeth grinding.  
“Isaac.”  
At his Alpha calling his name Isaac is kneeling by his side.  
“You’re going convince Danny to withdraw his claim on Stiles, and take you as his submissive.”  
“Why should I want to submit to him, after what he has done to Stiles?”  
“You heard Stiles; Danny was trying to be the Dom he needed, but he isn’t; he’s not a Sadist and Stiles is a masochist; you’re not. Danny is more suited to be your Dom.”  
Isaac’s wolf wants to appease his Alpha, “Okay; I’ll try.”  
“You’ll succeed,” Derek grabs the back of Isaac’s neck; Isaac rubs his head against his Alpha’s arm as Derek continues, “Danny needs to see the kind of Dom he can be with a submissive who doesn’t have Stiles needs to meet, needs he can’t meet; he needs to understand what his life can be like with a submissive that he can satisfy.”

\--

Stiles awakens to the feeling of his ass being licked, “Danny?”  
The warning growl tells him no, not Danny; it’s Mr Sourwolf. He moves to turn around, he can’t let another Dom lick him; Danny is his Dom.  
“Stay still, I’m healing your wounds,” Derek growls at him. Then the previous night’s events replay in his mind, and a panic starts to set in; he stills at the sound of a whimpering whine, then realises it isn’t coming from him, but from Derek. Derek who is nuzzling at his inner thigh.  
Stiles hypothesises _could it be that Derek is trying to comfort him, albeit in a very wolf-like manner; could Derek actually care about him_.  
Derek laps at his thighs, over the globes of his ass, cleaning and healing every cut and welt; working his way up Stiles back laving at every lash mark, healing every cut and tear in the skin. Stiles relaxes onto the bed, a savoured moan escaping as he can’t hide his carnal desire rising; especially not from the werewolf in the room licking and purring, _is he purring, do wolves purr_ , their way up his very naked body.

Stiles knows he really needs to stop this; this is like cheating on his Dom, and he already did that in his dreams, and now the wolf of his dreams is licking up his spine and oh my god he nearly comes from the nip to his neck and the purr in his ear; _and he hasn’t even been spanked_.

“Stiles,” Derek purringly murmurs against his ear, “you know Danny shouldn’t be your Dom, right?”  
“Hmm,” wait, what; Stiles eyes fly open; all the nice naughty feelings evaporate as he considers that Derek is trying to manipulate him into rescinding Danny as his Dom. He feels Derek unnaturally still above him.  
“He didn’t mean to…” Stiles starts, but the snarl from Derek leaves the rest unsaid.  
“You told me, and Isaac, last night,” Derek says between laboured breaths; his anger breaching the through his control, “he didn’t mean to hurt you so much; he was trying to give you the attention you need.” Derek pauses laying his forehead against Stiles temple, his breath hot against Stiles ear, “He was trying to be a good Dom for you, I get that, but he couldn’t, he would never be able to give you what you need, it’s not in him. He…”  
Derek pauses, and Stiles feels something damp against the hairline around his ear; Derek haltingly continues, his breath ragged, “I could smell the blood Stiles… you weren’t even out of the car and I could smell your blood…” there’s a growing panic to Derek voice, “your shirt was sticking to your back, you were shaking, in shock… I couldn’t… I lost control when I attacked him; I’m so sorry, because I shouldn’t have, but…”  
Derek’s breath is irregular against Stiles neck; Derek feels like he is being torn in two, between his wolfs’ desire to take and claim their Mate, and his absolute certainty that he needs to let Stiles choose to accept him.  
“Stiles, you deserve for your needs to be met too. Someone who can make your body rise up seeking the hand smacking your ass, turning it red and still keeping you hard with need; someone who can make you yearn for the caress of the leather tails of the flogger as it heats and warms your skin. If you don’t want… I’ll withdraw my claim if you don’t want me as your Dom, but please… please find someone who can fulfil your needs to.”

Stiles was confused; that wasn’t unusual around Derek; _Derek had unnatural abilities that allowed him to take away Stiles’ awesome rational thinking and reasoning skills_. Stiles had expected sexy, sensual manipulation of his feelings, he had steeled himself ready and could have resisted that; _but Derek seemed genuinely upset that Stiles had been hurt, however unintentionally by Danny, he seemed to really care and wanted Stiles to ensure his needs were met_.  
“Okay,” Stiles found himself saying, before even realising his lips were moving.

Derek exhaled, he hadn’t known he was holding his breath; but Stiles was going to find a Dom that could meet his submissive needs. _His wolf was whining inside this was his Mate,_ **_he should be claiming him_** _; Derek wanted that too, but his own concerns that he could have hurt Stiles had held him back; and Stiles had been hurt because of that, Derek knew he was indirectly responsible for what happened to Stiles; and had no right to hope that Stiles would choose him as his Dom_.

“But we need to agree things up-front…” Derek was confused at Stiles comment, “…I want to know what you expect from me as your submissive.”  
Stiles looked up at Derek and saw the dawning realisation; the uncertain smile growing into a wolfish grin across his face.  
“Sir, I should call Danny,” Stiles hesitantly said.

\--

Stiles didn’t expect the call with Danny to be happy and friendly; but he didn’t expect Danny to unpleasant, Danny was always nice and easy-going. He had expected him to be upset, he knew he would be unhappy; after Danny had tried to be the Dom that Stiles needed, even when Stiles had said he didn’t need to. I mean after all Danny had chosen Stiles as his sub, _why would Stiles be complaining_.  
But, Danny had been very un-Danny like; he had started to be snarky, and Stiles was beginning to get upset; but suddenly his phone was out of his hand and the call disconnected. _And really Stiles had just intended to let Danny say what he needed to; he felt like he deserved it, if it hadn’t been for Stiles then Danny wouldn’t have gotten beat-up by a werewolf_.  
“No; you do not deserve it,” Derek is snarling at Stiles, his hands gripping his shoulders tightly, head at eye-level, “it is not your fault; nothing that happened was your fault.”  
Derek wraps him tightly in his arms, pulling him against his chest; the denim of his jeans scratching against Stiles’ bare legs, the gentle scrape of the cotton shirt against his cheek as he lays his head Derek’s shoulder.

\--

Stiles spent most of the rest of the day naked lying wrapped in Derek’s arms; either on his bed, or in the couch; mostly talking about what each was looking for in their Dom/sub; or watching TV. As Stiles had been pretty sure about, Derek was higher rated as a Dominant than Scott, and Scott was more dominant than Danny; it did mean that Derek wanted, or needed, more control over his sub. They agreed that Stiles would try not to question Derek in public, but could make is unease known; in private Stiles could use his safe-words even in a non-SM scene where he didn’t want to obey Derek and they would _talk and compromise_. Derek had stumbled uttering the word. They had also agreed that they would renegotiate these rules **_when_** Derek collared Stiles. _Stiles noticed that Derek said when not if, and it did give him a goofy smile on his face and make him feel stupid happy_.

On the couch, Stiles naked and reclining across Derek’s lap was how Stiles’ father found them; Stiles was sure he was going to die of embarrassment and that his dad would have an aneurism.  
That feeling that his dad was going to have a stroke, or a heart-attack didn’t abate as he explained that Derek Hale, whom he and Scott had previously accused of murder, and who had been a person of interest in more than one investigation had made a claim to be his Dom; and that he had accepted said claim.  
Now, Stiles had believed that being naked in front of his father was going to be the most humiliating thing to happen to him that evening; however, when his dad had tried to lay down the law and state that there would not be any hanky-spanky under his roof Stiles heard the full measure of Derek’s Dom voice. Stiles knew that he reacted to Scott’s Dom voice, even though Scott hadn’t been trying to use his Dom voice; but Derek’s was a whole other league.  
Stiles found that being naked in front of his dad while sporting an erection was going to be the most humiliating thing to happen to him that evening; he hoped. Derek made it perfectly clear that he would have **_his submissive_** serve him however and wherever he chose, within the _agreed limits of his submissive and the law_ ; and that if he chose to take **_his submissive_** up to bedroom tie him to the bed and fuck him that he would do so; _thoroughly_.  
Stiles was pretty certain that this must be the most embarrassment he would endure ever, in his whole life, ever. And yes, as his eyes were cast down to the ground he could clearly see he was still hard, as a rock.

\--

Despite threatening (promising) to take him to his bedroom tie him to the bed and fuck him Derek didn’t. Instead he took him to his bedroom, selected a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for him to wear; then took him to a motel on the outskirts of town, stopping on the way at a Centre run store. Stiles was told to wait in the car, and he did.

In the motel room Derek ordered Stiles to strip. He placed the bag from the store on the night stand by the bed. Derek then walked around the room, checking the windows, the phone, the locks on the door and the bathroom. Once he had finished Stiles was standing submissively at the foot of the bed naked; his clothes folded on the chair by the bed.  
Stiles could feel Derek’s wolf was close to the surface; feel it in the way he moved, the sound of his voice.  
“Stiles, I’m going to mark you,” Derek rumbled close to his ear, “I want you to submit to me.”  
Stiles was momentarily confused, he was submitting to him, he had accepted Derek’s claim to be his Dom and rescinded Danny’s claim. Then he realised, turned his head and bared his neck. And Derek bit, scraping his teeth along Stiles’ neck; nipping and licking; raising the blood to the surface to blossom the bruising mark; to show everyone that Stiles was his.

Fuck, Stiles thought as Derek finished, growling ‘Mine’ into his ear; his cock was hard and leaking and all Derek had done was bite and mark his neck. Derek stripped, laying his clothes over the chair beside Stiles’. Derek was hard; and big; and Stiles swallowed unconsciously as Derek appraised the mark left on his sub.

“I brought you here as I thought you wouldn’t want your first time with me to be where your father would hear us.” Derek stated as he walked over to the bag; retrieving something from the bag he then returned to Stiles. He held up his hand and shook a red rubber ball; it jingled with the bells inside.  
“I’m going to gag you,” Stiles looked panicked, but slowly opened his mouth, “not with this ball. Hold out your hand.” He placed the ball in Stiles hand, “while your gagged if you want to safe-word throw the ball down and I’ll stop immediately. If I don’t see you holding the ball I will stop. Understood?”  
“Yes Sir.”  
Derek returned to the bag and retrieved what Stiles took to be the gag; as he returned with it Stiles could see that the gag part was shaped like a two-inch cock, padded with leather to cover the mouth and with a leather strap to fasten it at the back of the head. Derek can see that Stiles is uneasy, that his cock is no-longer hard.  
“Are you okay?”  
“Yes Sir.”  
As soon as Derek finished fastening the strap Stiles dropped the ball.

Hearing the ball hit the floor Derek quickly unfastened and removed the gag.  
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Derek’s concern is evident.  
“No, sorry, Derek, I… I just needed to know that you would stop,” Stiles rushes out, “I feel stupid that I didn’t trust you.”  
“You’re not stupid. Trust is something earned not given. I should have realised that the gag would not be a good idea right now.” Derek looks ashamed of himself.  
“No, really, I want to try, please,” Stiles pleads with him.  
Derek studies Stiles carefully before reattaching the gag.

Derek places Stiles in the centre of the bed on stretched out flat on his front, his cock and ball pulled back between his slightly outstretched legs; he’s not tied down. Derek runs his hands through Stiles’ hair, down his back, over his ass and thighs. When he stops they are both hard again.  
The first slap lands on Stiles’ ass, Derek’s palm is open and slightly cupped. The SMACK reverberates loudly around them. Stiles groans into the gag, squeezing the red bell-ball tightly in his hand.  
Derek is spanking him hard now; his ass is dark pink and hot to the touch, he is crying and groaning into the gag, tears in his eyes; the ball held firmly and his cock hard, leaking and aching for release. He can’t get enough friction from the angle that his cock is in pulled back.  
Derek’s hand that isn’t spanking him is gently rubbing up and down his back.

When the spanking stops Derek continues to rub his back, and over his redden ass. He licks Stiles’ tears from his eyes. They are both still erect and needy.  
“Are you okay?”  
Stiles nods.  
“Would you like some water?”  
Again Stiles nods his head.  
Derek fetches a bottle of water and a straw; he places the straw through a hole in the gag to allow Stiles to drink without needing to unfasten and refasten the gag.  
Derek fetches two more items from the bag and a bottle of lubricant. He palms lube over Stiles’ cock and then lifting Stiles slightly places a textured thick silicone sleeve over Stiles hardened cock places it back under Stiles’ stomach.  
Stiles feels the soft caress of the leather fronds trail down his back. He groans into the gag, fisting the ball, and grinding his pelvis down to rub his cock against the textured grooves of the sleeve covering it.  
The first lashes on his back are gentle and slow; slowly Derek increases the pace but not the force. Stiles is moaning and writhing on the bed, his grip on the ball firm and steady as seeks the friction against his hard shaft from the thick silicone surrounding it.  
The tails of the flogger land harder and faster over Stiles’ back, ass and thighs. Derek can smell the height of Stiles’ arousal and feel the hard need of his own. As Stiles nears his orgasm Derek stops the flogging. He soothes Stiles back, and ass; removing the gag.  
“No, don’t, almost there,” Stiles complains as Derek removes the silicone sheath.  
“Shh, Stiles,” Derek growls into his ear, “I need to fuck you.”  
Gently moving Stiles, he raises his legs and slips his lube covered fingers into his puckered flesh. Teasing and the opening, relaxing the muscled ring until his hard shaft and enter. His control is slowly losing to the desire and need to be in his Mate.  
One long slow push until he is flush against Stiles’ body; and Stiles’ legs wrap around Derek’s waist. The need in both of them is demanding; Derek tries to keep his control and slow the pace until Stiles cries out, “Please harder Derek, fuck me harder please.”  
With a roar Derek’s mouth fixes over the mark he left on his Mates neck; his cock riding fast back and forth over Stiles’ prostrate. Then they both feel it begin, Derek too lost in his need to control himself.

Stiles is coming over both his and Derek’s torso, blissfully lost in the sensations until the swelling in his ass stretches uncomfortably; Derek’s thrusts have stilled to shudders as he growls his release against Stiles’ throat.  
“Derek?” Stiles timidly asks, “what’s in my ass?”  
Derek doesn’t answer.  
“ _Derek?_ ”  
“It’s me.”  
“You feel… bigger.”  
“It’s my knot.”  
“But Scott said he didn’t have one, because I researched, and I asked the awkward questions, and Scott definitely said that in all the time with Alison he didn’t have one.”  
Derek is silent.  
“ **Derek?** ”  
“We only knot with our Mates. Allison couldn’t have been Scott’s Mate.”  
“Mate, as in wolves like mate, _wolves that mate for life like mates?_ ”  
“Yes; werewolves mate for life too.”

\--

Stiles stared up at Derek; looking him right in the eye in disbelief, or he would if Derek wasn’t avoiding his gaze. “How long are we…,” Stiles didn’t want to say stuck together, _that seemed to be for life, and oddly when he had thought of Derek collaring him, which is a long term relationship, usually intended to be for life, that hadn’t worried him at all, so why had this? Oh yes, this is supernatural mystical bullshit where life means life and there is no legal back-out plan_ , “… tied together?” _No, that really wasn’t any better_.  
“It could be up to forty minutes.”  
Derek was beginning to look uncomfortable; Stiles was sure that being on his back with Derek above him couldn’t be the best position for him to have chosen; _did Derek not intend to Mate with him? Did he not want Stiles for life? Why was he now stressing about Derek possibly not wanting this when just minutes ago he was stressing about being Mated to Derek for life?_  
“Do you want to roll over so that you’re on your back and I’m sitting on top of you?” Stiles offers. Stiles feels the pull of Derek’s knot at his hole as they move around; Derek careful to ensure that he doesn’t pull at Stiles’ ring of muscle too much as the reposition themselves, his knot still engorged and liable to tear the flesh. Derek positioned himself so that his upper back was resting against the pillows piled at the headboard. His hands kept roaming over Stiles’ thighs, lower back and abdomen; his Mate was stressed and needed comfort; _his Mate was stressed at being his Mate_.

He was feeling lost; nothing was how it was supposed to be. _He wasn’t supposed to be the Alpha, Laura was; Stiles was his Mate, it was supposed to make them both happy, make them stronger together, but Stiles didn’t want to be; he could tell that his Mate had been angry when he felt his knot inside him. He hadn’t even intended to tie to Stiles yet; but like everything concerning his Mate he lost control and gave in to instincts.  
The attack on Danny because he couldn’t control himself having seen the injuries Danny had caused; the need to be inside his Mate, to coat him in his scent removing any trace of Danny; and then at Stiles plea for him to ‘Please harder Derek, fuck me harder please’ he’d pushed just that bit further and that bit harder that his knot and entered and tied them together.  
Derek couldn’t help but compare himself to Danny; they both had tried to be the Dominant that Stiles needed; Danny had failed and now Derek was sure he was failing Stiles, his Mate, too. When Stiles rescinded Derek’s claim as his Dom, and he was sure he would, and he lost his Mate…_ his maudlin thoughts are interrupted as he realises Stiles is asking him something.

“What?”  
“I asked, why are you crying?” Stiles reaches down and wipes the dampness from Derek’s eyes.  
“It’s nothing, just something in my eye.” Derek averts his gaze from Stiles; but can’t stop the petting and need to comfort him.  
“ **Oh My God! Derek!** **_We agreed_** , that while I your submissive am not allowed to lie to you, you as my Dominant are not allowed to lie to me either; **_we agreed Derek_** ; and now as we’re mated for life…”  
“We’re not mated for life,” Derek interrupts.  
“What,” Stiles frowns in confusion, “ _but you said werewolves mate for life_.”  
“Yes, you are not a werewolf.”  
“So?”  
“So you can rescind you acceptance, you can leave and find a Dom you want,” Derek can’t keep the hurt and anger out of his voice, “There will never be anyone else for me, but I saw the look when I told you, the anger, how much you did not want to it to be true…”  
Derek is silenced by Stiles grabbing him and shoving him back against the headboard.  
“Seriously, Derek, how stupid are you? Don’t answer that; you did not see anger, well yes a little anger that you didn’t tell me before knotting with me; but mainly I was shocked, remember I had done the research and the asking awkward questions of Scott, not necessarily the most reliable source of information on werewolves, but I really didn’t think that our relationship was such that I could ask you at the time, and yes maybe a little bit nervous about the whole for life thing, but I pretty much see collaring as a for life deal anyway and the thought of being collared by you didn’t bother me. So I pretty much think we’re mated for life. And how screwed up is our Dom/sub relationship that I’m the one throwing you against the wall, or in this case headboard.”

Derek has heard the truth in everything Stiles said, he grabs his Mate and rolls them backwards on the bed so that Stiles is under him; he beams down at him before claiming his mouth, his tongue forcing its way into his mouth in a possessive kiss.  
Stiles breaks the kiss to reclaim some breath, “Seriously Derek you need to learn to use your words, communicate, talk about stuff.”  
“Yes Mate,” Derek answers before resuming the kissing.

Stiles still wonders how this affects their Dom/sub relationship; he is sure that the supernatural mystical bullshit of Alpha/beta/omega/Mate pack dynamics must interfere with normal Dominant/submissive relationships.  
He’ll research it later; right now he wants Derek to knot him again, now that he knows what was happening – best orgasm ever.


	12. Scott and Jackson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always this chapter has not been beta'd , no-one has reviewed. I've attached a picture of the items listed in the chapter in the end-notes.

Scott was wrapped around Jackson spooning him; they were on Jackson’s bed, still both fully clothed. Scott was licking and nuzzling at the nape of Jackson’s neck, comforting his sub. Scott was going to kill Derek _self-fucking-righteous_ Hale. _He had no right, Jackson was his not Derek’s; he had no right having his beta’s grab Jackson and take them to that dilapidated wreck of a rail depot; and he had no right forcing that poison into him_. Scott can still smell the stink of Derek’s pack on his Jackson; he needs to clean it off him.

“Jacks,” Scott softly says against his ear, “I need you strip, I can still smell them on you and I need clean it off you.”  
“I already showered twice,” Jackson turns over to face Scott, seeing the furrowed brow, “I _know_ it’s a wolf thing; I don’t need your supernatural senses to know how tense and angry you are.”  
Jackson gets off the bed and slips his shirt off over his head, Scott watching the tensing and relaxing of Jackson’s back muscles as he stretches and turns to Scott, “Remember you promised me you’re not going to confront them over this.”  
“I promised you I would not start a fight with Derek and I won’t; as you pointed out he’s an Alpha and a lot faster and stronger than me.”  
“And you previously told me,” Jackson is taking off his pants, “that you heal at human speed from the wounds an Alpha inflicts on you, I don’t want you hurt,” Jackson turns away slightly, embarrassed by the admission and takes off his underwear.  
Jackson crawl back on to the bed; seeing his Dom’s eyes darkened; his mouth slightly open as his tongue tracks over his lips and the evidence of a bulge in his jeans. Jackson rests back on his knees, an upward curve to his mouth.  
“Someone likes me naked.”  
Scott kneels up in front of him, a wildness in is mien that has quickened Jackson’s heartbeat.  
“I like you obedient too,” Scott’s voice is low and full of authority, reverberating in Jackson and hardening his cock, “and marked, and mine, and covered in my scent.”  
Without thinking Jackson drops his eyes, his hands clasping in the small of his back, and his head turned exposing his neck where Scott always marks him. With the purring growl and the nip of teeth on flesh both Dom and sub are happy.

Scott has licked and nipped at every part of Jackson; every part except his cock, which has remained rock solid bouncing against his abs leaving a pool of pre-come. Jackson is so needy he can feel himself vibrate with it. Scott is still fully clothed and nuzzling at his neck.  
“I have a chest of toys,” Jackson doesn’t know why said it; he hasn’t told anyone about them, okay Danny knows about some of them; Danny was in the Centre when Jackson was buying the tawse, the stiff leather strap that he knew would hurt _sooo_ good; he’d told Danny he was looking forward to using it on his sub; _but he knew, even then he really knew, he wanted to feel it used on him_.  
“ ** _Show me_** ,” Scott says, his voice deepening more with his growing desire, as he rises off Jackson.

The chest is like a small wooden treasure chest you would see in a pirate movie; the curved lid is hinged on opening and the chest is fastened with 3 brown leather straps. Jackson has hidden it at the back of his closet. Scott can hear the fast hammering beat of Jackson’s heart as he brings his treasure trove out for him; and he gets it, _this is an important step for Jackson; this is truly starting to accept that he is a submissive and a masochist_.  
There is a small collection in the chest, each giving an insight to Jackson’s desires:  
(1) A black leather tawse, about twenty inches long and four inches wide at the business end, where there are two tails that flare out.  
(2) A tight-fitting black leather slave hood, with a removable blindfold and removable mouth cover that snap off, the slave hood is made of glove soft leather and laces up the back.  
(3) A black leather studded collar, the leather is soft as nappa leather and there are three D-rings, the label is still attached; Jackson looks down blushing as Scott reads the label, it states the item is a ‘ _Wolf Collar_ ’; “Maybe I’ll get you to wear this to school,” Scott smiles at Jackson, causing him to blush even more and his cock to firm just that little harder.  
(4) Black nipple clamps with a black chain; the clamp surface has a protective rubber cover, and they are equipped with a locking screw for precision-tuned pleasure and stimulation.  
(5) A neurowheel; chrome steel and completely covered with sharp spines; to be played across anywhere on the body (testicles, penis, nipples).  
(6) A chrome coloured CB-6000 chastity cage; three interlocking parts that fit together, two guide pins hold the top pieces together, the locking pin goes through the middle recessed hole connecting the cage portion to the ring. The cage portion of the CB6000 has vented slots for hygiene (cleaning and natural air drying.); there are standard serial plastic locks that can be worn through metal detectors as well as a metal Master padlock.

Scott doesn’t know what to play with first on Jackson’s body, his own cock, trapped in his jeans, as hard as Jacksons’. He turns to look at Jackson, **_his submissive_** , his eyes blown with lust, accented with the golden colour of his wolf’s eyes bleeding through his darkened brown.  
“Is there anything in your toy chest you don’t want me to use on you right now?” Scott’s voice his heavy, the rumble of a growl seeping through his arousal.  
“No Sir.”  
“Then we are each going to pick an item,” Jackson’s cock twitches at the thought of feeling something from the chest used on him, “then we will each pick another. You can pick the first item.”  
Jackson’s eyes rove over the items in the chest; he’s had these for almost a year, since he could first go into the Centre run store and was allowed to purchase them; but what does he want Scott to use on him.  
He selects the tawse, desperate to feel the sting of the leather on his body. The rising pounding of his heart ringing in his ears, as his trepidation and excitement rises. Scott takes the leather strap from him and lays it on the bed.  
Scott casts a glance over the contents of the chest before quickly selecting the collar. He leans over towards Jackson and has him bend his head forward; Jackson’s breath quickens, his chest rising and falling in short bursts, as Scott carefully fastens the collar around his neck, keeping two fingers between the collar and the skin of Jackson’s neck as he buckles the collar tightly.  
With the fingers of his other hand he tilts Jacksons’ head up and captures his mouth in a bruising kiss, nipping at his lips and invading his mouth with his tongue.  
Pulling back breathless with need he looks down at his need sub, “Your turn to pick another toy.”  
Jackson reaches in and pulls the first thing his hand lands on; the neurowheel. His eyes widen as his cock pushes more pre-come out to slide down his erectness as he looks between the implement in his hand and the feral smile across his Dom’s face.  
Scott looks into the chest and his hand aims directly for the nipple clamps. Scott places the last two items onto the bed beside the tawse.

Hooking a finger in one of the D-rings on the collar he pulls Jackson up as he stands.  
“In the centre of the bed, kneeling hands at the back of your neck; you can watch me,” Scott’s voice seems to resonate against Jacksons’ very core. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before jumping on the bed to comply.  
Scott forces himself not to rush; damn it is difficult, he just wants to strip and jump onto the bed with his sub and spank, and bite, and thrash his ass with the leather strap and clamp his nipples tugging on the connecting chain and kiss and rut and… _fuck he needs to come so badly, his cock feels so swollen and hard in his pants_.  
Scott toes his sneakers off, before peeling off his socks. He bends over and carefully puts the socks in each sneaker before placing them under a chair. He undoes the first few buttons on his shirt before pulling it over his head, stretching out above himself as he pulls the sleeves off his arms.  
Jackson groans in frustration and need; the sight of his Dom’s muscles playing and stretching under his skin.  
“Something wrong Jacks?” Scott asks as he loosely folds his shirt over the back of the chair.  
“No Sir,” Jackson whines, causing Scott to grin as he lifts each foot out of the legs of his jeans; throwing them over the back of the chair with his shirt. His boxers bulge obscenely out in front of him, wet with the slick pre-come flowing from the crown of his shaft. Jackson unknowingly licks his lips as Scott pulls the underwear off and drops them beside his sneakers.  
He swaggers towards the bed and Jackson, his erect cock leading the way.  
He climbs onto the bed beside his sub; claiming his mouth with his lips and his teeth, as he tweaks and teases his nipples between his fingers; preparing them. As Scott breaks the kiss to lean back and pick up the nipple clamps Jackson sways forward his mouth looking for the lost contact it just had, whimpering at the loss.

“You remember your safe words Jackson?”  
“Yes Sir,” Jackson says slightly breathless as the anticipation builds.  
“ _Notebook_ to stop what you’re doing; and _Piano_ to stop the whole scene, Sir.”  
“Very good Jackson,” Scott could understand picking ‘ _The Notebook_ ’ and ‘ _The Piano_ ’ as his safe words, he never understood Lydia and Allison’s obsession with the films.

Scott pulls Jackson’s left nipple out from his body; placing one of the opened clamps over the nipple he slowly turns the barrel closing the clamp as Jackson; Jacksons’ hands jerk a little at the back of his neck as he sucks air in through gritted teeth as the bite on his nipple increases.  
Scott’s hand leaves the barrel and glides over Jacksons’ taut abs; nuzzling at his cheek, “Such a good boy Jacks; ready for the next one?”  
“Yes Scott.”  
Scott attaches the other clamp to Jacksons’ right nipple, taking the same slow pace; soothing Jackson as the clamp bites into his sensitive flesh.

“Okay Jacks, you can take your arms down now,” Scott is gently playing with the chain connecting the nipple clamps with one hand, while barely palming Jacksons’ erect shaft with the other; coating it with Jackson’s pre-come, “time to turn around so you’re facing the headboard, then I want you down on all fours.” Scott edges slightly back from his sub as Jackson move to comply; as gasp escaping him as the clamps pull on his abused nipples.  
“I’m going to redden your ass with my hand before I use the leather strap on it.” Scott softly rubs his hands over Jackson’s back, “You doing okay Jacks?”  
“Hmm, yes Sir,” Jackson hazily replies; his hardness jerking and leaking beneath him at every touch from Scott; just as Scott’s leaves its own slimy trail over Jackson as it brushes against him.

Scott lust soars with every slap of his palm against Jackson’s ass; the crimson hue of flesh rising with each SMACK, as Jackson shudders from the heat of the spanking and the juddering pull on his nipples as the chain jingles loosely between the clamps.  
He’s listening for any sound from his sub, other than the moans of need that have been building louder as he built the spanking up to a near torrent of continuous slaps of palm on ass cheeks.  
He looks Jackson over, running his hands over his back, down his sides and over his scarlet covered ass; checking he’s okay and still aroused, evidenced from his pooling pre-come in the bed covers below, before landing the first crack of the leather on his heated ass.  
The already abused flesh catching between the two tails of leather.  
“Aarghh!” torn from Jackson’s throat.  
“Jackson?”  
“Sir,” weakly answering.  
Another thwack of the leather against his bruised ass.  
“Please… Sir…”  
“What do you need Jackson?”  
“I need to come, Sir, please Scott,” Jackson begs, desperate for release.  
“No Jacks, two more with the strap and then I’ll stop; but you are not to come.”  
Jackson groans with the effort to hold back as Scott brings the leather across his ass in two quick forceful bursts. THWACK! THWACK!

Scott lays the tawse down; his hands soothing over Jackson’s ass, reaching down around his abs, sliding up to his chest and pulling him up to rest his back against Scott’s chest. Scott quickly undoes both clamps from his nipples and kneads the pinched flesh between his fingers to encourage the blood flow as Jackson arches up into the touch, gasping his pain as his cock juts and throbs from his groin.

Jackson’s head rolls back onto Scott’s shoulder, small keening and pleading moans escaping him as Scott works his nipples, “Please…ahh please Scott, please Sir,” as his hard shaft strains with want.  
Scott’s own cock is hard, pressed into the small of Jackson’s back; it feels harder, hotter and more swollen than he ever recalls.  
“We’ve one more toy to play with, remember the last toy you selected from the chest?”  
Jackson groans, unconsciously rubbing his face against his neck, “Please, let me come, make me come, please… I need…”  
“I know Jacks, you’re very needy,” Scott huskily whispers to his sub, “but first I’m going to play with the spikey toy you picked, run it all over your skin, leaving a trail of pin-pricks; then I’m going to fuck you, you can come when I fuck you Jackson, you want that?”  
“Please, please fuck me, I need you to fuck me,” Jackson begs, his lust evident in his breathless voice and jutting hardness, wet with need.  
As Scott moves back Jackson whines, “No,” at the lost touch, wanting his Dom’s warm embrace. Scot lays Jackson on his back, arms stretched above him; the soles of his feet flat on the bed, placed as far apart as he can comfortable bear. Jackson’s hard shaft lay flat across his abdomen; glistening in a coating of his natural lubricant.  
“Stay still, and don’t come.” Scott starts running the wheel down along the soft flesh of Jackson’s inner thighs; alternating sides and direction; Jackson keened and whined, his breathing ragged as he fought to keep control, to obey his Dom and not to come. Scott drew the spikes of the wheel up over Jackson’s side, playing down over his nipples; licking at the abused flesh, his tongue laving at the pin-prick trail as he played the toy over Jackson’s chest and down towards his straining erection; Scott lapped at the pool of pre-come collecting on Jackson’s abs; his own need clawing at his control he throws the neurowheel aside and flips Jackson over onto his stomach.  
“On your knees,” Scott growls in lust filled dominance. Jackson keenly obeys, desperate for his own release.  
Scott coats his fingers with lubricant and teases his them over Jacksons pulsing entrance, playing roughly with the puckered flesh he begins to breach the opening, one, then two; scissoring his fingers and curling them down, searching for that pleasure mound.  
Scott’s control shatters as he partially transforms at Jackson pleading, “Please, please Scott, please Sir, fuck me, I need you Sir, please.” Jackson’s longing uttered in his begging, his need for release.  
Scott rakes his claws softly over his sub’s back; Jackson shivers at the feel of his Dom’s wolf-like form, his arousal spiking higher as Scott leans over to lick up along his spine, leaning over his back and nipping at his neck just beneath the leather collar as he plunges into Jackson; Jackson pushing back to meet Scott’s thrusts; rapid and shallow, as Scott swells inside; Jackson can feel the stretch and fullness the pressure as Scott unleashes in him roaring, “Mine,” as he bites down on his collar-bone; and Jackson comes again collapsing in the pool of semen, the warm weight of Scott, his Dom, a soothing comfort.

As Jackson lays there, Scott drowsy on his back, he knows what the fullness pulling at his puckered hole is. Scott starts to rouse, trying to extract himself from Jackson he is startled by Jacksons painful cry.  
“Scott, Sir, don’t you’ll rip me open.”  
“What, **_what?_** ” Scott’s panic incomprehension startles Jackson.  
“Fuck, Scott, don’t pull,” Jackson knows he isn’t liking that pain, and not just because the lust filled haze has lifted, “just lay back down on me, or spoon on our sides okay?”  
Scott lies on top of him then slowly pulls them over onto their sides, “How come I’m still hard in you, and stuck?”  
“You remember that dream I told you I had, the one you said would not be possible?”  
Jackson knows there is confusion on Scott’s face at the silence, “the dream I had about you knotting with me, and you said you couldn’t ‘cause you didn’t have a knot; well you were wrong.”  
“Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” Scott panics; _he should be checking on his sub, making sure he’s okay after a scene, not blacking out then hurting him, he shouldn’t be so careless_.  
“I’m fine,” Jackson chuckles, “I was too blissed out at the start to notice; and you made me come twice when I felt it swell in me,” he blushes at the admission.  
Scott wraps his arm around his sub, snaking it up to loop a finger in a D-ring in the collar, “I love you Jacks.”  
Jackson stills against him for a moment, “Me too,” _because I love you can’t be said_.

Sated, they sleep as they wait for Scott’s swollen knot to recede. Comforted in his Dom’s embrace, and filled with him, Jackson cannot hear the susurrating call to serve another Master.

\--

Stiles smells wrong; _totally wrong_. They are standing at their lockers, Stiles is saying something about protecting Lydia and all Scott can think of is he doesn’t smell right, well that and the fact that he still can’t believe his cock has a knot, and he tied to Jackson and **_ohmygod the orgasm was amazing_** ; and then he gets it, what’s wrong with Stiles’ scent, Stiles doesn’t smell of Danny, he smells of _Derek_.  
“ ** _Why do you stink of Derek?_** ” from the look on Stiles’ face Scott knows the anger he’s feeling is written all over his face and was in his voice. Stiles studies a non-descript point on the floor.  
“HeismyDomnowand…” Stiles doesn’t get to finish his run-on sentence of how he is also Derek’s Mate.  
“ ** _What did he do? Danny was your Dom? What did he do to Danny?_** ”  
Stiles doesn’t have time for this; seriously he needs to stop his Dom, his Mate, from making a mistake; and really Scott’s Dom voice doesn’t have quite the effect on him it did last week; he’s been on the receiving end of Derek’s, and that resonates with him a lot more.  
“Scott, you’re _Leia_ , **remember** ; and seriously, now is not the time. Derek is going to make a big mistake and we’ve got to stop him. He thinks Lydia is the Kanima and is going to have his pack test her and then they’ll kill her.”  
“The way they tested my Jackson?” Scott snarls in his face.  
“Jeez, thanks Scott, you wanna spit that again?” Stiles knew Scott didn’t like Derek, but he really didn’t expect this whole other level, “and I don’t know what happened with Jackson, but if you want to get back at Derek help me stop him killing Lydia.”  
“ **Fine**.”  
“Fine; good; we need a plan.”

\--

Protecting Lydia in Mr Harris’s chemistry class doesn’t work out too well. As they are swapping partners trying to keep Isaac and Erica away from Lydia they each end up at one point sitting with one of them.

“Hey Stiles, you know that thing that Danny does with his tongue when he’s rimming you out and his tongue has you so relaxed and open and he’s blowing air gently over your…”  
“Hey Isaac, you know that thing that Derek does when he ties to you with his knot and it swells up in you and you feel so full and blissed out?” Stiles smiles at Isaac’s perplexity, “No? Didn’t think so.”

Scott’s claws edge up Erica’s leg, the sharp points scratching at her skin.  
“Don’t move Erica,” Scott’s growl leeching through, “somewhere along here is a very important vein or artery or something and you don’t want to move and for me to accidently slice through it do you?” Scott can smell the fear, his wolf likes the fear; this one took his Jackson to Derek, this one helped Derek hurt his Jackson and neither of them likes that.  
“No.” Erica replies through raggedy breath; lips quivering as she tries to still herself.  
“Good, “ he digs his claws in just a little further, Erica gasps as the smell of blood catches them both; Scott’s grin is feral and very dangerous, “Never, ever, touch my Jackson again; I don’t want you or any other of Derek’s puppies scent on him; clear?”  
“Very.”

And then Isaac is with Lydia and the clear viscous liquid is dripping onto her lips. And nothing happens.

\--

Jackson doesn’t know when things started to go wrong; last night, last night was near perfect. He felt more himself, more alive than he had in forever.

Last night Scott said he should make him wear the collar to school, this morning he took it off; _lies_.

Last night Scott said he remembered his promise not to confront Derek, not to take on the Alpha; _lies_. Right now he is out there facing off to him because **_Stiles_** , his better match of a sub, his better matched sub who apparently has dumped Danny and now is claimed by that very Alpha, wants to save Lydia from Derek, who thinks she is some monster, and wants someone to stand between him and his Dom; and Scott, _Scott who is supposed to be his Dom_ , is there fighting **_Stiles_** battle for him.

Last night Scott said _I love you_ ; Jackson hasn’t said that in a long time, to anyone; he wanted to say it back, not just say ‘ _Me too_ ’, but he couldn’t; as exposed as he had made himself to his Dom, to Scott, he couldn’t make himself that vulnerable. Maybe it was just as well, maybe it was just more _lies_.

And now, as Scott is out there facing off to Derek and his pack, with **_Stiles_** and **_Allison_** , _Allison his ex-girlfriend who has a hunter for a father who kills werewolves for fucks-sake_ , at his back, Jackson senses a compulsion for protection from the uncertainty; of not knowing who he is and what he means to anyone, to himself, _to Scott_ ; a need to let go and cover himself in another skin, another self, and just obey.

\--

Scott sees them looking up at the roof, Derek’s pack staring up; he turns and sees it too the Kanima; but Derek had to be wrong, he can’t have just let Lydia loose on the town to kill again; but Lydia is there coming out asking what is happening.

The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach is dragging him down as he rushes through the house, room to room; screaming for his sub, screaming for his Jackson. He collapses on the pile of torn clothes, the scent of spices and sweetness; he’s lost, loosing himself to the instinct of his wolf to find his Jackson. He shifts, his howl piercing the air; again and again he howls at the loss of his Jackson, the need to find his… his…  
The scent of others hits him as they crowd at the opening of the confined space; he turns to them and snarls his warning, readying for attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The contents of Jacksons' Toy Chest


	13. Feral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter as usual has not been beta'd/proof-read/reviewed; all mistakes are my own. It was two am in the morning when I finished reviewing the chapter and there may be formatting and other typo's.
> 
> There are descriptions of violence and harm to major characters.

One whiff of the scent coming from Scott and Derek knew; _he knew why Scott had lost control and was completely feral_. Jackson was Scott’s Mate, and his wolf knew it was losing his Mate; his wolf didn’t understand why or how to stop it happening, and in its frustration, and Scott’s frustration, control and rationality had given way to instinct. With no alpha or pack to help him, Scott was lost to that instinct with no way back to his self-control.

Derek knew his options were limited, as was time.  
“Isaac, Boyd; try and track the Kanima, don’t try to take it, just follow.”  
“Stiles, contact Dr Deaton; we may need his assistance,” Stiles looks like he’s about to argue, say he wants to stay here and help; _help who? Help Derek? Help Scott? Derek isn’t sure_ , but there isn’t time for debate, “Stiles I need you to go get Deaton; Jackson is Scott’s Mate, do you understand, Scott is losing control to his wolf, I need you to get Deaton; Erica go with him, I don’t want any of you alone.” Derek’s tone left no room for argument; from his submissive or his beta.  
“Allison take Lydia home,” Derek continued.  
“Wait; will someone explain what is going on? What do you mean Scott’s losing control to his wolf? Since when does Scott have a wolf?” Lydia asks in exasperation at her confusion over everything that’s happening; not just the events of this evening.  
“Come on; I’ll explain on the way,” Allison says; turning to Derek she states, “He won’t submit.”  
“His wolf might.”  
Allison’s expression changes, the shock leeching through her calm façade, as she realises what Derek intends to do; force Scott to accept him as his Alpha while Scott is not in control because Scott’s wolf will act more on instinct and possibly be easier to subdue. She knows that Scott refused to be part of Derek’s pack because he has issue with Derek having lied to him about the cure and taking Peter Hales’ life; becoming the Alpha in the process; but also partly because she asked him to, trying to protect him from her family. She can’t stop herself thinking, _maybe if she hadn’t he would have resolved his issues with Derek before now and wouldn’t be alone going through this; he would have had a pack to help him keep control_. Allison turns back to Lydia, “Come on, let’s go, and I’ll give you the CliffsNotes on what’s happening.”

Derek’s full attention returns to the room he’s standing in the doorway of; Scott fully shifted to his werewolf before him; poised ready to attack, the only reason he hasn’t moved is that he recognises that it is an Alpha he would be fighting.  
Derek snarls at him, “Submit!”  
Scott roars his rebuff of an answer; this was not his Alpha, he had no Alpha, he was his own wolf and this Alpha had hurt _his Jackson_ , was blocking his way to search for _his Jackson_. He roared again and charged.

Scott’s claws ripped through Derek’s shirt, grazing his skin as Derek grabbed his arm, his claws digging in as he pulled him round, throwing him to the other side of the room, his head connecting with the wall as his back slams flat against it; he falls to the floor, landing on all fours. They rush at each other again, teeth and claws nipping, ripping and shredding as they fought.  
Scott kicked at Derek, landing the blow across his chest; there’s a crack, Derek falls back kicking up, aiming to take Scott’s legs out from under him, but his foot lands solidly in Scott’s groin; he doubles over in blinding pain as the agony of the blow shoots through him. Derek lunges at Scott, grabbing him by the back of the neck and batters his head against the edge of the chest of drawers; blood splatters from his forehead over the wall behind the dresser; Scott turns swinging wildly, his claws tearing into Derek’s chest; Derek swipes his taloned fingers as Scott leans back, his talons land on the side of Scott’s face gouging down the side and over his neck, over his shoulder to his chest. 

But Derek was an Alpha and the wounds he inflicted on Scott were not healing as fast as Derek’s wounds from Scott did. Scott was bleeding and tiring as Derek slammed him into the floor; both of them half-naked and sweating; Derek holds Scott’s arms down, lying on top of him.  
“Submit Scott,” Derek snarls into his ear, “accept me as your Alpha.”  
Scott struggles and fights; but his wolf recognises the Alpha’s power, knows it is submit or die; while Scott couldn’t submit it can and Scott instinctively bears his neck to Derek. With a growl of satisfaction Derek bites into his neck at his collar bone; marking him as one of his, making him part of his pack.

They both shift back to human form; Derek nuzzling and licking at his beta’s neck where he bit and scratched, comforting him and softly telling him that they would find his Mate.  
Scott looks sharply at Derek; the realisation of just what Jackson means to him dawning.  
“ _Please Derek, please don’t kill him_ ,” Scott pleads, he remembers how Derek said they **had** to kill the Kanima; but Scott can’t lose Jackson, he couldn’t bear the pain of it.  
“We have to stop him,” Derek knows they must stop the killing, and he won’t make another promise that he can’t keep, “ ** _if_** we can do that without killing him then we will.”  
Derek continues to lick at Scott’s wounds as Scott lies there, conflicted between his anger at submitting to Derek, the need to save and reclaim his Mate, and the need to accept the care his Alpha gives him.

Stiles returns with Erica and Dr Deaton; he doesn’t know quite what to make of the sight that greets him as he rushes to the room where Scott was. Scott and Derek both half naked, bruised and sweaty; Derek lying on top of Scott, licking at his wounds; _and he really needs to leave the room and not think on that, no, not thinking of that; of his Dom, his Mate, and his best friend, both of whom are half naked and sweaty and lying on top of one another and licking, and no, if he doesn’t stop they and Erica will know the sudden problem Stiles is experiencing._  
The growl from Derek tells him it’s too late to retreat; the scarlet blush creeping up Stiles’ neck and cheeks.

\--

Dr Deaton checks both Scott and Derek over; there really isn’t anything for him to deal with now, Derek’s wounds are mostly healed and Derek’s licked most of Scott’s wound better; there will still be some marks on Scott that won’t fade for a few days yet, especially the bite over his collarbone; and mostly Derek only sent Stiles to get the vet so that he was out of the way while he dealt with Scott.

Scott, Stiles and Erica are left in the room alone while Derek and Dr Deaton are discussing something, neither Scott nor Erica can make out enough of the conversation. Scott surveys the fallout in the room from his fight with Derek.  
“Fuck, how am I gonna explain this to my mom,” he exclaims looking over the body shaped indent in the wall, the blood-splattered dresser and the wall behind it, and the shredded clothing. Erica sniggers.  
They all hear Derek’s cell-phone ring. Scott rushes to the door in time to overhear Derek’s side of the conversation.  
“Don’t approach it, and stay out of sight; I’ll be there soon,” he hangs up; looking at Scott, where Erica and Stiles are now crowded behind him, he says, “Erica, Stiles go home; Scott I’ll handle this don’t get in the way.”  
Derek is gone, headed off wherever Jackson has been spotted by Isaac and Boyd. Scott is running to the door, Stiles on his heels.  
“Stiles,” Erica shouts after him laughing, “your Dom is so gonna punish you.”

\--

“Dude, should you maybe have put more clothes on first?” Stiles asks speeding along in his jeep; following Scott’s directions as he hangs out the passenger side window scenting the air for Derek. He seems to pick it up more easily now and wonders if that is because Derek is now his Alpha; at that thought he feels a coil in his gut as if he’s doing something bad, he knows Derek didn’t want him to follow, but he didn’t explicitly say that.  
“I mean you’re all naked up top and those jeans are ripped and bloody,” Stiles still rambles on.  
“No time Stiles,” Scott barks at him, “Derek is going after Jackson and I need to save him, I can’t let Derek kill him, **_he’s more than just my sub_**. I helped you protect Lydia, _now help me_.”  
 _But he is the Kanima, Stiles doesn’t say_.

\--

Allison parks outside Lydia’s house. Lydia turns to face her, brow almost furrowed in bewilderment.  
“So let me get this straight… Scott, Isaac, Erica and Boyd werewolves; and Derek Hale is like the Daddy werewolf that made them?”  
“Not exactly,” Allison tries not to scrunch her face up at the thought of Derek Hale as the father of any of them, “he didn’t make Scott a werewolf, he wasn’t an Alpha then, his uncle was and when we helped kill him Derek became the Alpha.”  
“And your family are werewolf hunters?”  
“Yes.”  
“So, a real-life Romeo and Juliet,” Lydia quickly adds, “without the tragic ending I mean.”  
Allison looks a little wistful at the thought, “I wouldn’t say it _wasn’t_ tragic; it may not have ended in a double suicide, but it was definitely doomed from the start; it just wasn’t my family that caused it to end.”  
“You both wanted the same things in a relationship.”  
“Yeah, we just couldn’t give it to each other,” Allison reflectively says, “it’s strange, I never saw it, how dominant he was; but in Dom-101 the other day when Ms Morrell was taking about what constitutes the abuse of submissives; Brian and his ‘friends’ were in the back and one of them comments on ‘how everyone knows that when a sub says no they don’t really mean it’…”  
“Creeps, I hope Ms Morrell set them straight?”  
“No, Scott did, he’d already said that when an uncollared sub says no, it means no, but at that comment he was out of his seat and had the whole back row acquiescing to him; none of them could look him in the eye, they were all slouching in their seats; very submissive.”  
“Wow, I’d never have thought of Scott as being one for progressive submissive rights, I kinda always thought he was more of a traditionalist.”

\--

Derek was landing a few hits; but keeping out of the way of the Kanima’s claws and their paralysing poison, and having just fought Scott, he was not making any headway in bring it down; Isaac and Boyd are staying out of sight on the periphery as instructed. Suddenly the Kanima is felled by multiple shots to its chest; Derek ducks into cover, signalling for his two Beta’ to return to their ‘lair’; Derek really doesn’t like labelling it that, but the name has stuck with his pack.

Chris Argent has come into view, Derek is staying in the shadows; the hunter walks over and looks down on the body of the Kanima, turning his back on it he finds himself suddenly careering into one of the concrete supports; the creature is back up and looks recovered.  
Chris’ vision is blurred from the blow to the head as he landed; the creature is crawling towards his father, who looks to be at ease in its presence; it circles him, pausing to stare up at him. The creature is unexpectedly knocked back as Scott jumps between it and his father.

 

Derek softly growls as he sees Scott appear and knock the Kanima back, Scott looks back at Gerard Argent before taking off after the Kanima; before Derek follows them he detects that Isaac is following Scott, skulking in the shadows; much like he is.

\--

Scott, with Stiles and Isaac catching up to him, trails the Kanima to the BDSM nightclub ‘The Block’; the club is split of a basement containing a large open-plan dungeon, ground floor where the entrance and cloakroom are, first floor where the bar and dance floor are, and the second floor containing a dozen rooms that can be hired for the evening; each room can be equipped with an assortment of toys and equipment from the dungeon as requested.  
Scott sniffs the air and scents Danny’s cologne; looking round the corner he spots him in the queue to enter the club.  
“What’s he doing here?” Isaac asks, concern radiating from him.  
“Especially on auction night,” Stiles smirks, “he trading you in already?”  
Isaac turns sharply to Stiles growling his anger at him; it doesn’t hide the fear that it might be true from Scott.  
“What’s auction night?” Scott asks typically bewildered.  
Both subs turn to him unbelieving that he doesn’t know.  
“Seriously, Scott,” Stiles starts, “it is one night a month when a Dom can put their sub up for auction to the highest bidder,” Isaac says, before Stiles continues, “or an uncollared/unclaimed sub can put themselves up. There are usually about six or eight subs up for auction,” Isaac picks up, “the winning bid for each sub then has the use of them, within the subs usual limits, for the rest of the evening in one of the rooms upstairs.”  
“The money raised goes to the ASS-G, Abused Submissives Support-Group; to help run the safe houses,” Stiles finishes.  
“Seriously, how could you not know?” Isaac asks smirking at him.  
“ _People really do that_ ,” Scott sounds incredulous at the idea, “ _let their subs submit to other people?_ Would you be happy if your Dom loaned you out?” he asks Isaac.  
“If it made my Dom happy to see me being used by someone else; then I could deal with it,” is his answer.  
“I think the idea is hot, and I know there are some subs who say it makes them feel more subby; but I don’t know if I could go through with it,” Stiles says contemplatively.  
“ **I could not share Jackson with anyone.** **_Ever._** ” Scott is very resolute on the matter.

Stiles spots the Kanima crawling its way into the building through window on the upper floor; Scott breaks the handle to open the locked back door; the three of them make their way in and up to the first floor. The music is loud, a thrusting beat pulsating through the crowd; the strobe lights intense as the rapid flashes cut through the darkness, diffusing on the dry-ice hanging in the air.

They make their way to the bar. The barman’s eyes scarcely leave the bite mark on Scott’s neck; he won’t serve them alcohol, even when he looks at their fake IDs.  
“I’d really like for my friends and I to have a beer,” Scott’s voice is low, uncompromisingly forceful; the barman’s eyes drop, bringing a smile to Scott’s lips as the scent of arousal hits him.  
“Yes Sir,” he replies bringing three bottles.  
Scott turns to Isaac and Stiles handing them a bottle; their eyes are also looking to the floor, reacting to Scott’s show of dominance.  
“Eyes up boys, we need to find my naughty sub,” Scott states cheerfully, “and look for Isaac’s Dom to keep him safe.”  
Stiles and Isaac exchange a look that says they both are thinking the same thing; naughty?

\--

_The prey was there below; among so many liars, so many who make you doubt and question, who don’t give the clarity, the certainty of obeying a Master; no need to think of your desires, only the need to obey, only a Masters’ will important.  
He crawled along towards the target among the press of bodies, the billow of smoke. So simple to drop down and strike._

\--

Isaac spotted Danny at the same time Scott spotted Jackson/Kanima; who was crawling along among the lights in the ceiling towards Danny. Isaac darted into the crowd heading to Danny as Scott moved tracking the Kanima telling Stiles to stay at the bar.  
Scott loses track of the Kanima as it drops into the cloud of smoke as Isaac loses sight and scent of Danny among the smoke and arousal of the crowd. Isaac pushes himself through the crowd, his anxiety spiking, as shouts of alarm break from the within the smoke, followed by a roar.

Derek fully shifted attacks the Kanima under the cover of the smoke; slashing its throat with his claws, its blood spraying on the floor as it makes its escape through the back entrance that Scott, Isaac and Stiles entered.

Several of the Dominants are lying paralysed on the ground, their legs, or the back of their necks, scratched; Danny is among them, Isaac rushes to him; none of the subs were attacked.  
“Danny, Sir,” Isaac falls to his knees beside his Dom; lying motionless on the dance floor.  
“Isaac?” Danny queries, “what are you doing here? I thought you had a ‘pack thing’ you needed to be at?”  
“It kinda finished early…” Isaac dips his head passively, “are you okay, Sir?”  
Danny looks up at him eyebrows raised as he’s being rolled onto a stretcher, “Apart from being unable to move, fine.”  
Isaac looks pleadingly at Danny as he’s being carried by the paramedics.  
“ ** _Heel, boy!_** ” Danny calls; Isaac jumps up following him into the back of the ambulance, the grin splitting his face.

\--

Scott follows the trail of blood, Stiles on his heels; he finds Jackson naked and unconscious in alley behind the club, Derek standing over him. Scott moves towards Jackson, stilling when Derek growls.  
“Stiles, I told you to go home,” turning to look at Scott, “and I said I would handle this.”  
“He’s my submissive and my Mate,” Scott cries, “would you let someone else handle it?”  
At Derek’s answering growl Scott finds he unconsciously bares his neck, where the bite mark is still freshly noticeable.  
“No, I wouldn’t,” Derek sighs, looking over at Stiles; both Scott and Stiles looking at him in disbelief at the admission.

Scott carries Jackson to Stiles’ jeep; he won’t let anyone else touch him. They are taking him to the ‘lair’. Derek insists that they restrain Jackson, for his own protection and so that he doesn’t harm anyone else. Scott acquiesces to the plan only when Derek snarls his insistence; leaving him needing to follow his Alpha’s lead.

\--

Jackson awakes disoriented; he’s naked and shackled on the floor of a metal room. Tightly fitted around his neck is steel collar, a chain passing through a D-ring at the front connected to the steel cuffs around his writs. From each of the wrist cuffs another chain is then connected to the steel cuffs around his ankles.  
He’s on his knees; the shortness of the linking chains stopping him from being able to stand, he has to remain on all fours; and he can’t move far from his current position as another chain connects from the collar around his neck to the eye-bolt in the floor.  
And a part of him thinks _this would be hot, if the metal collar and cuffs were leather, and he knew where he was and that he was safe; and if Scott was here telling him he was a good boy_.  
But the last thing he remembers is being at Scott’s, protecting Lydia from Derek’s pack, and he had been arguing with Lydia about the key to his house, and he was angry; angry at Scott for lying, for fighting Derek when he promised he wouldn’t, for promising him then breaking the promises… then nothing; he doesn’t remember anything.

Stiles enters the room, he’s carrying a bottle of water. Opening it he offers it to Jackson; when Jackson eyes it warily Stiles takes a sip himself before offering the bottle again. Jackson drinks it down.  
“Easy,” Stiles cautions him, “you’ve been out for a while; Derek got some tranquillisers from the vet and dosed you.”  
Jackson glowers at him, “You better let me the **_fuck_** go; or…” Jackson stalls, _he was at Scott’s; Scott was fighting Derek. If Derek got him here and drugged him, where is Scott? What have they done with Scott?_ “Where is Scott?” Jackson asks quickly panicked, “What have you and Derek done with Scott?”  
“Scott is _fine_ ,” Stiles is indignant that Jackson would think he’d harm Scott, “Scott’s my best friend; you _really think_ I’d do something to hurt him?”  
“Gee I don’t know last thing I heard you were arguing over the fact that you had dumped you Dom in favour of jumping into bed with Scott’s least favourite werewolf in town,” Jackson shouts at him; silently thinking _even though he still then runs after your skinny ass to help you save Lydia from same said werewolf_. “When Scott finds out what you and Derek have done you think he’ll…” Stiles interrupts him.  
“Scott’s here; he’s outside this room,” Jackson looks dumbfounded at Stiles words; it can’t be true, “Derek won’t let him in here yet, he wants to talk to you first.”  
Stiles turns back to the door; leaving Jackson confused on the cold floor, _how could Scott be fine and out there on the other side of the door and not be fighting to see him, to get him out of here?_

Jackson looks up sharply at the growl as Derek stands in front of him; he’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t heard him enter the room. Derek is saying something about him being some freaking lizard assassin creature, going around killing people; Isaac’s dad, the mechanic…  
“Bullshit,” Jackson exclaims venomously, “I think I’d know if I’d turned into giant lizard on the full moon; and I didn’t.”  
“Well apparently you don’t know.”  
“I taped myself,” Jackson realises how that sounds and quickly continues, “I wanted to capture me turning into a werewolf, only that didn’t happen…”  
“Because you’re a Kanima…”  
“No, nothing happened; I was just a normal human sleeping. Danny’s got the recording.”  
Derek stalks from the room.

A high pitched whine pierces through Jackson’s ears, slowly he can make out voices talking; Derek, Stiles and Scott.  
“Scott, we know Jackson is the Kanima, we all saw him on your roof, we were all at the club when it attacked Danny and the others,” Derek’s voice growing louder, “we followed the trail of the Kanima’s blood to Jackson, naked in the street.”  
“I know all that,” Scott practically whines; not the dominant assertive voice Jackson is used to hearing him use, “but I know Jackson is not a killer; when I first changed I didn’t have any control, I was dangerous and I hurt people. Nobody talked of killing me…”  
“Except maybe the Argents,” Stiles interjects, earning him a glare from both Scott and Derek.  
“Please Derek,” Scott pleads, “Please don’t kill him.”  
Jackson loses focus on the conversation; his Dom was begging for him. He feels the tear track down his cheek as the door opens and Scott enters. Jackson wipes the dampness from his face with the back of his hand; the chain clinking as he moves.  
He can see Scott his half naked; no shirt, his jeans torn and bloody.  
“Scott, Sir, what happened?”  
Scott kneels down beside his sub. Jackson sees the bit mark on his neck; his eyes widen in shock.  
“Derek won the fight,” Scott states, his voice breaking slightly as he says, “I… my wolf submitted and he became my Alpha.”  
“He’s going to kill me isn’t he?” Jackson’s voice is small and quiet as he asks.  
“No, I’m going to Danny in the hospital and I’ll get the recording,” Jackson’s hope rises, Scott believes in him, “if we prove to you that you’re changing into the Kanima; if you let us help you control it so you don’t hurt anyone.”  
Jackson feels crushed; Scott had pleaded for him, said he wasn’t a killer; but he believes he’s this monster that has killed.  
“I’ll get the recording. I’ll help you, I’ll make it work out alright; I won’t let him kill you, I’ll fight for you I swear.”  
 _Lies_.  
Scott kisses his forehead before standing and walking out the door.


	14. Seeking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always this has not been beta'd/proof-read; any mistakes are mine.

Scott ran home and changed, picking something baggy to cover the marks and bite that Derek left on him, before grabbing his bike to head to the hospital; he’ll need to try and avoid his mom, and she’s working just now. As he rides his bike to the hospital he replays his words to Jackson, _I’ll make it work out alright_ ; it sounded just like the words he had said to Allison, and he’d **failed; _he wouldn’t fail Jackson, whatever it took_**.

Isaac is still at the hospital with Danny when Scott arrives; Danny is preparing to leave.  
“Have you been here all night?” Scott asks Isaac.  
“Yes he has,” Danny answers smiling at Isaac, “looking after his Dom like a good sub should.”  
“I thought they only allowed that for collared subs?” Scott says as Danny is looking through his wallet.  
“Did the cops have to take my fake ID?” Danny exclaims throwing his wallet on the bed, “So, what’s the real reason you stopped by Scott?”  
“Is there any reason for Jackson to be mad at you, like really angry?” Scott asks, leaning on the end of the bed; _he’ll lead up to the video, try and find out why Jackson would want to attack Danny first; maybe it was related to the video?_  
“Angry? Like how?” Danny doesn’t understand; why does Scott think that Jackson’s mad at him?  
“Like on a scale of one to ten; one being kinda irritated and ten like wanting to kill you violently.”  
Danny can see Isaac is studiously examining the floor; he’s contemplating this as he answers Scott, “Jackson’s always kinda at a four, but we’re good. I was actually doing him a favour.”  
“What kind of favour?” Scott curiously asks; _knowing this would be the video_.  
“I was recovering a video for him; I put it on my tablet.” Danny thinks, _the night Jackson took the video of himself was the night of the full moon; did Jackson video himself turning in to a werewolf? Was that the missing part he recovered?_  
“Is this anything werewolf related?” Danny asks startling both Scott and Isaac.  
“What do you mean?” Scott tried to sound light, but couldn’t keep the guardedness out of his voice, throwing a quick look in Isaac’s direction.  
“I’ve known about werewolves for a little while now,” Danny says standing to put himself between his sub and Scott, “ever since a certain alpha beat me up and ripped his claws through me.”  
“I don’t remember seeing any bruises or scratches at lacrosse practice,” Scott states sounding sceptical; he **_knows_** if Derek had attacked him like he says there would have been marks for days, _if not weeks_ ; unless Derek had licked the wounds to heal them.  
“Isaac healed them,” Danny says as if it was nothing.  
“How?” Scott asks walking cautiously round to the other side of the bed from Danny and Isaac.  
Scott’s question surprises Danny and Isaac; his wary stance, putting the bed between them, confuses them even more.  
“Am I missing something here?” Danny looks between Isaac and Scott, “Isaac licked the wounds and they healed; isn’t that how it normally happens with you guys?”  
“Yes,” Isaac says as Scott says, “No.”  
“You can’t heal the wounds caused by the Alpha,” Scott growls; deep, full and commanding, “only the Alpha can; so how could you heal Danny if he was attacked by Derek?”  
Isaac instantly finds something on the floor to look at, turning his head to bare his neck on instinct; Danny almost lowers his eyes, almost. He understands now how the other Doms in class had felt when Scott had aimed that tone at them; but this wasn’t aimed at Danny, it was aimed at his sub.  
“Don’t speak to my submissive like that,” Danny stands between Scott and his sub; his own voice becoming firm and assured.  
“This is… pack business and doesn’t concern you,” Scott’s self-assured manner nearly faltering over declaring himself part of Derek’s pack.  
“If it concerns my sub then it concerns me,” Danny steels himself against Scott’s authoritative demeanour. Isaac feels so much in those two words ‘ _my sub_ ’; and thinks to himself, _maybe his father was wrong, maybe he’s not such a pathetic sub_.

Scott berated himself, this wasn’t getting the video, _this wasn’t helping Jackson; his priority had to be Jackson; but he wouldn’t forget about Isaac healing Danny’s wounds from Derek’s attack, it didn’t work like that_.  
“This isn’t the time; I need to get Jackson’s video, I promised him I’d take it to him,” Scott won’t back down on; he needs to prove to Jackson he’s the Kanima so that he can get him to accept help in controlling it.  
“Fine, we’ll go get the video and then we’ll take to him together.”  
Danny seems adamant that he’s not letting the video out of his sight; but fine, Scott doesn’t care as long as they get the video to Jackson.

\--

Scott knew that Danny thought he was being clever; not telling him where his tablet with the video on it was, in the trunk of his car; and then taking a cab to his car that was still at the club, while Scott had his bike and would therefore be following the cab around town.  
Did he forget that Scott was a werewolf? A werewolf that was able to overhear him tell the cab driver the address of the club while on his bike behind the cab. Scott didn’t have to follow the cab; he didn’t have to take the route to the club that the taxi did. He got there first.  
Only to find the trunk had been forced open and the tablet was gone. The tablet was the only thing that was gone.

Danny and Isaac got there just as he was about to leave; finding the lock on his trunk broken he reamed Scott out assuming that he was responsible.  
“ **I. Did. Not. Do. It.** ” Scott snarled at him; his anger leeching his control and allowing his eyes to change, “it was already jimmied when I got here; the only thing taken was the tablet.”  
“There’s more expensive stuff in the car than the tablet,” Danny’s puzzlement clear, “Why would a thief only take it?”  
“If it was the video they were after,” Isaac postulates, “but that would mean it was someone who knew about it.”  
“Dude,” Danny glares lewdly at Scott, “What is this video of? Did you and Jacks make some werewolf porn? You all wolfed out and topping him?”  
“ _Oh My God_ ; **_NO_** ,” Scott’s horrified expression causing Danny and Isaac to crack up.  
“This is not funny,” Scott roars, “Jackson’s in real trouble; I need to get that video.” Danny is suddenly serious.  
“What trouble?” Danny asks, “And what is on that video?”

So Scott tells him. Tells him how Jackson is turning into this Kanima, which is like some giant lizard that kills people, only Jackson doesn’t believe them; he tells him how the video, they believe, will show Jackson turning into this creature and hopefully convince him to let them help him control his shifting and stop him killing people; before Derek or the Argents kill him.

Danny doesn’t need Scott or Isaac’s werewolf senses to tell that Scott at least believes what he is telling him; or just how much Scott actually cares about, _maybe loves_ , Jackson, the sheer emotion in his voice when he said that Derek and the Argents were willing to kill Jacks to stop the Kanima told him just how much Scott didn’t want to lose him.

“Take me to Jackson, let me talk to him,” Danny says looking between Scott and Isaac; causing them to share a look that means this is not a good idea.  
Scott decided they’ll do it anyway.

\--

The glowering they receive when they enter the lair followed by Danny tells Scott and Isaac that Derek is not happy; Scott had sent a text to Derek to tell him they were bringing Danny to talk to Jackson. Scott had ignored the text in reply telling him not to; part of him fought disobeying his alpha, the other part of him really had to.

“Scott,” Derek scowled, “care to explain why he is here.” Scott knew it wasn’t a question; it was a command from his alpha. In bringing Danny here when his alpha had instructed him not to he had effectively challenged his alpha’s authority; but for Scott this wasn’t about him and Derek, this was about Jackson, this was about his Mate; to Scott that’s all that’s important, Jackson.

“He’s here to talk to Jackson,” Scott begins.  
“I was recovering a video for…” Danny begins to explain when Scott pauses; only to be silenced when Derek interrupts.  
“I. Was. Asking. Scott.” Danny averts his gaze and closes his mouth; his words dying on his tongue. Scott can handle this; that wasn’t his alpha asserting his authority; that was just Derek, and Scott has never had an issue standing up to Derek and telling him he’s wrong.  
“Danny was recovering a video for Jackson; a video Jacks took of himself on the night of the full moon,” Scott moves into Derek’s personal space and ignores his warning growl, “A video that he thought would show him turning into a wolf, only that didn’t happen. A video that Danny found had been edited, but not by Jackson, so that all it showed was Jacks sleeping. Danny was recovering the missing hours and the recovered video was on his tablet.” Derek is silently frowning at Scott now.  
“So where is the video?” Derek demands, “Why didn’t you just bring the tablet?”  
“Someone stole the tablet with the video on it from the trunk of Danny’s car,” Scott bites back at Derek, “the specifically popped the trunk and took the tablet; nothing else from inside the car or the trunk.”  
“They were after the video,” Derek says quietly, “who else knew about the video?”  
All eyes turn to Danny.  
“Only Matt, it was his camera that Jacks had used; and he was helping me recover what had been erased,” Danny looks between Scott and Derek as he talks, “it was Matt that found there was missing footage.”

\--

The turmoil raged in Jackson as his mind reeled from thoughts of all that he considered had befallen on him. Thoughts of never knowing who he really was because of the _deception_ and _lies_ of his ‘ _parents_ ’; of never meeting their expectations, never being the Dom they wanted like themselves; of trying to be like his friends, trying to be the Dom they were and be what they expected him to be, only to be turned on when he wasn’t; of friends never telling him his act wasn’t fooling anyone, not even himself; of never really belonging with anyone, or to anyone.  
He thought it was different with Scott; it felt so, so right with Scott. That night in his room, the collar brushing against his neck; Scott’s knot filling him and making him feel so contented, so cared for, so owned; he had felt like he belonged with Scott.

But then Scott broke his promises one by one; just like everyone; left him abandoned and alone.  
Scott’s promise to make him wear the collar; _he took the collar off the next morning_.  
His promise not to challenge Derek; _broken that night for Stiles_.  
He’d said ‘I love you’; _but he didn’t believe in you, he left you here with werewolf that wants to kill you_.

He feels the dampness on the back of his hand; looking down at the tears hitting his skin is eyes widen in shock and horror. His skin shimmering as the tanned flesh ripples and turns to scales of dark greens; emerald, jade, hunter and feldgrau.  
 _No, No… Scott_ ; his thoughts lost as looks up to the horrified face of Danny walking into the room as the transformation completes.

\--

Allison groans as she collapses back onto her bed.  
“Maybe it won’t be that bad,” Lydia consoles her; except for the questioning tone where her voice rises as the sentence ends.  
“Really, my parents have set me up, more or less on a date _tonight_ , with _sub_ ,” Allison all but glares, “what sub would want to be claimed by a Domme that needed her parents to find her a submissive?”  
“ _Well…_ ” the word stretches out in Lydia’s mouth as she struggles to find anything to follow it, seating herself on the chair by the wall.  
Allison throws her hands in the air exclaiming, “Exactly,” a growl of frustration bursting out, “I don’t need this now, what I need is to find someone who can translate archaic Latin!”  
“I know archaic Latin,” Lydia states as if it were nothing out of the ordinary for a teenage schoolgirl.  
Allison raises herself up on her elbows, “you know archaic Latin?”  
“I got bored with classical Latin.”  
“Just how smart are you?”  
“Just show me the pages,” Lydia holds out her hand waiting for Allison to pass her text to be translated, “and you can get ready for your date; is he cute? It is a male sub isn’t it?”  
“Thankfully; at least my parents know I’m straight and wouldn’t want a female sub; Jedidiah Koch,” Allison shows Lydia the scan of the pages to be translated on her laptop.  
“JEDIDIAH COCK?” Lydia almost shouts.  
“OMG NO,” Allison stares disbelievingly at Lydia as they both dissolve into fits of laughter, replying between laughs, “KOCH; **K-O-C-H** , it’s German in origin, I think; apparently his family are moving here in a few weeks during Thanksgiving break from Bracken County, Kentucky.”  
“That’s odd,” Lydia’s laughter dies as she looks confusedly at Allison, “who moves during Thanksgiving? He’ll only have been in school a few weeks when it’s time for the holidays.”  
“ _Hunters_ ,” Allison mouths silently, voicing quietly, “and he’s graduated high school already.”  
“ ** _O_** _kay_ ,” Lydia elongates the ‘O’ looking cheekily playful, “tell all; how old, what does he do, what does he look like and what is he?” She didn’t take a breath between any of the questions.

Allison switches to her email app on the laptop and brings up an email forwarded to her from her father with Jedidiah’s details.

_Jedidiah Kock: sD32 – Submissive / SM12 – Sadomasochist (M)  
Date of birth: April 2nd, 1991_

“So I don’t know what he looks like or what he does,” Allison sounds dejected, adding, “ _other than kill werewolves_ ,” rather grittily from between her teeth.  
Lydia is doing something with the email properties and pulling out message tags and ids that are long strings of alphanumeric characters; turning to ask, “Is your command prompt locked down or any of your ports blocked or forwarded?”  
“Is my what, what?” Confusion is evident on Allison’s face.  
“Never mind, I’ll try it anyway,” Lydia is clicking away on the keyboard muttering to herself, “seriously, Stiles thinks he and Danny are the only ones capable of doing this stuff.” Before exclaiming, “Oh he looks like a younger, slightly thinner Matt Lanter.”  
Allison is looking over Lydia’s shoulder at the image on the screen; there are several windows open.  
“Lydia how did you…” Allison begins.  
“Do you really want to know or do you want plausible deniability?” Lydia interrupts.  
“Is that his private email?” Allison’s shocked voice asks.  
“Well, there is this email from the Centre, compatible matches in the Beacon Hills surrounding area; and you’re not the only name on the matches, but you are the only one in the area who or whose parents received an email from this account.” Lydia’s voice doesn’t hide the suspicion she has over that.  
“Who were the other matches?” Allison really didn’t intend to ask her to snoop any further, really, but…  
“There are only two others in the area that I recognise.”  
Allison glowers at the screen, “You have got to be kidding me!”

The names they both recognise are Derek Hale (eighty-nine per cent match) and Scott McCall (ninety-six per cent match). Allison is listed as an eighty-five per cent match.

“If both of them are better matches why have neither of them been approached; neither of them have an actual collared sub, only an accepted claim.” Allison ponders, “and both of them can collar more than one submissive anyway.”  
“Maybe he’s straight,” Lydia postulates, not sounding entirely convinced.  
“Then why not restrict the search to only female Dominants and have the male Doms excluded?”  
“Maybe they know your family are hunters?”  
“Very possible,” Allison concedes, “but then does that mean that they know what Aunt Kate did? Are they supporters of her actions? Do they therefore know about Derek Hale? Do they still follow the code?”  
“Well, we need to make sure you can get the answers on your date,” Lydia deviously grins, “we need to bring your ‘A’-game to make the little, well not so little, sub whimper; from the tip of your six-inch heeled thigh length boots to the lace at the top of your skin tight leather basque.”

\--

 _Seriously_ , Danny is thinking, _twice in less than twenty-four hours_.

He still can’t quite believe what he saw; _but he knows he did; he knows that what Scott had said was true_. Jackson was turning into some kind of giant lizard, and it attacked him.  
Derek had rushed in and thrown the thing, Jackson, away from him just after it scratched him. It was fighting with Derek as he collapsed; Scott and Isaac breaking his fall, catching him and lowering him gently to the ground.  
At Scott’s shouted ‘NO!’ as Jackson, the Kanima, had gone to rip into a paralysed Derek, he had charged at Scott only to push him to the side and bolt through the open door.  
The shattered chains scattered on the ground while the steel collar and cuffs were still around his neck, wrists and ankles.

Danny could see that Scott was torn between chasing after the Kanima, Jackson, and checking on Derek. When Stiles rushed into the room, running to Derek’s side, Scott sped out after Jackson.

\--

Allison didn’t wear the black leather basque with the lace; she wore the brown leather gothic over-bust corset that laced up at the bust; had three thick heavy buckles down each side and chains hanging looped down over her thighs; brushing the tip of her thigh length leather boots that laced up the back. She put on a tight dark brown leather skirt that covered to the top of her boots, and dark brown leather jacket; her hair was pulled back in a tight pony tail and there was a small black leather flogger hanging from the belt loop of her skirt. She wanted to make some impression after all.

“We’ve gone for the steampunk look I see,” Lydia purses her lips disapprovingly, “I’m not sure it’s working for you.”  
“I don’t want to try too hard,” Allison frowns, “and I like the leather, Scott was never overly keen on leather; and anyway are you making any progress with the translation?”  
“Yeah; are you sure Ms Morrell said this bit said ‘ _the Kanima seeks a friend_ ’?”  
“Yes, that’s definitely what she said, why?”  
“She was wrong; it’s ‘ _the Kanima seeks a_ **_Master_** ’.”  
“Are you sure?” Allison asks.  
“Of course I’m sure.” Lydia’s look clearly saying, ‘Duh! Don’t be stupid’.  
“Okay, when you get home I’m going to need you to call Scott, no not Scott, Stiles,” Allison remembers how badly Scott reacted to Jackson being the Kanima, if he knows someone else is controlling his sub she’s not sure how he’d react, “and let him know that someone isn’t looking out for Jackson, someone is controlling him.” Allison steels herself, “I need to go meet the hunter my parents want me to take as my sub.”

\--

Allison made her way down the stairs; _damn her feet were going to be sore after walking in these boots, she wishes she had gone for a smaller heel; but this was about looking the part as much as being it_.  
“You look striking,” her grandfather says coming towards her ahead of both her parents, her father that half step behind her mother as always, “you remind me so much of your Aunt Kate like that.” He doesn’t see the cringe from her father at those words, nor does her mother; but she does and she feels it too.  
“You look stunning,” her father says, smiling at her.  
“Yes, every inch the Domme,” her mother’s lips tight in that pinched smile she does.  
“Thanks,” Allisons smiles. Everyone smiles, and Allison just knows that something is wrong with this, something isn’t right; and she waits.

“Allison, before you go meet this young sub, can we have a word,” it was her grandfather who spoke; and it wasn’t a question, not really ‘can we’, but ‘we will’. He turns back to the dining room walking to the table.  
Her mother stretching out her hand towards her; her father smiling at her still, though it’s weaker and falters briefly when she looks at him.

Her grandfather makes it all sound so normal and simple.  
The Koch’s are hunters like they are; the Koch’s know that the Argents are hunters. What her family don’t know, what they want Allison to try and find out, is why the Koch family is moving to Beacon Hills. There is not enough werewolf related activity for two hunter families in the area, so what it bringing them here.  
She’s not to push, not to raise suspicion; not to put herself in danger, just find out what she can.  
“Are you up to it?” her grandfather asks.  
“Of course I am,” she smiles back, as false as the one he returns.

\--

When Jackson awoke he was in his own bed; naked. The steel collar and cuffs were gone. He didn’t remember getting here; he didn’t remember removing the collar and cuffs.  
All he remembered were Scott’s words, ‘ _let us help you control it so you don’t hurt anyone_ ’, ‘ _I’ll help you_ ’; and Danny’s look of revulsion and terror.

He bolted upright searching for his phone as his thoughts raced; _what did he do to Danny, did he hurt Scott, was his Dom okay, did he… kill anyone?_  
There’s no sign of his phone. He quickly showers and gets dressed; heading into the hall he can hear his parents talking to someone in the hall, they sound concerned, they’ve reported him missing; looking down he sees they are talking to Sheriff Stilinski. _Oh no, this is not good_.

They turn and see him at the top of the stairs.  
“Where the hell have you been?” his father yells; _so much for concern_ , “don’t you realise how much you’ve made us worry.”

The sheriff talks to him in private; asking where he’d been, had he been forced against his will, had he been mistreated by a Dom, had Scott mistreated him. _Right now Jackson was more concerned that he had mistreated Scott, and Danny_.  
“Is Scott alright?” he blurts out.  
“Scott was fine when I talked to him yesterday, why wouldn’t he be okay?”  
 _Damn, how was he supposed to answer?_  
“I just figured he might have been worried about me,” Jackson flicks his gaze between the floor and the sheriff, _like a good sub ought to_ , but he’s not convinced he believes him.  
“Want to tell me where you’ve been for the last couple of days, and who you were with?”  
Jackson recalls reading that the best lies start with a truth. He knows now that Scott was trying to help and protect him; now he needs to protect Scott.

“Some friends took me some place to cool off; not really sure where I was I was pretty drunk.”  
 _That should do for a start, people know he was wild and would sneak alcohol; surely he can get him to believe this_.  
“Why did you need to ‘cool off’, did Scott do something he shouldn’t?”  
 _Why was he fixating on Scott? He needs to get his attention off Scott_.  
“It’s not Scott it’s me,” he almost screams.  
“Take it easy, take a breath and explain. We just want to know what happened; make sure no-one’s forced you to do something they shouldn’t have. People have commented on you have quite a few bruises around your neck; your father was talking about abjuring Scott’s claim.”  
 _He almost laughs; someone is forcing him to do stuff he doesn’t want to, that he doesn’t remember; he is when he turns into that monster; he hopes he hasn’t killed Scott, hopes that Scott is still safe; that he can somehow keep him safe. He wishes he had the ‘bruises’ on his neck now, Scott’s marks of ownership; but he saw when he showered that they were gone_.  
“No-one has forced me to do anything, and if my father used his authority as my legal guardian to abjure Scott as my Dom I’d never forgive him,” _he needs something, something believable to get them lay off Scott, the collar, Scott was going to make him wear the collar_ , “Scott was… the bruises were just hickeys that Scott gave me. Kinda like marks to show I’m his, cause he can’t actually collar me yet.”  
“Okay, and you don’t want these ‘marks’?”  
“No, I mean yes, I do want them…” he embarrassedly continues, “I kinda like them.” Sighing he says, “This is gonna sound stupid.”  
“It’s okay, just take your time.”  
“I have a collar I bought. I showed it to Scott, he said he’d lock it on me and make me wear it to school; never take it off.”  
“And you didn’t want that?”  
 _Gawd, why did he have to keep interrupting, why didn’t he just let me finish_.  
“ **No!** That’s not it,” the frustration is clear in Jackson’s voice, “the next morning he did take it off, he didn’t make me wear it; then he spends all day talking with Stiles and practically ignores me,” Jackson is shouting now, _too much truth coming out_ , “and I know the Centre matched Stiles as a better sub for Scott than I am and I know Scott says that they are too much like brothers for him to top Stiles, but I can see how they are together and I can’t see why he’d collar me for real when he doesn’t make me keep the collar on now.”  
“So, what happened? You just took off?” Sheriff Stilinski isn’t entirely buying this, he knows there’s more to the story than what he’s being told, more than Jackson being jealous of Scott’s friendship with Stiles; but without something more solid to go on there’s not a lot he can do.  
“Yeah; I just took off and ran, to cool off,” he wipes the tears from his eyes before they start to fall; _he hopes he just ran away from Scott; please_.

The sheriff leaves; not entirely happy with his story; Jackson can tell he thinks he’s hiding something; _and then some_. His parents don’t fully believe what he’s said either, but they are backing off; not abjuring Scott as his Dom; he’s glad about that, but… he doesn’t want to think about the ‘but’, not yet.  
He has his phone back; it was found at Scott’s. He must have changed there too, he vaguely remembers talking to Lydia there… and then it’s blank.

Everyone knows he’s back home. Danny has been calling; Scott too, a lot; at least they’re alive.  
He’s curled up on his bed; he can’t deal with them, not just now, possible not ever; not now that he knows what he is. He can’t stand the thought of possibly hurting them. He has to protect Scott; Scott will want to help him, try to help him no matter what. Scott wants to do the right thing, he always does; it’s part of why Jackson lo…likes him so much.  
He has to keep Scott at a distance, he has to protect him; he has to protect his werewolf Dom from the homicidal lizard sub he’s fallen in love with. He’s sure Scott was being truthful when he said he loved him; but how can that possibly still be true when he knows what he is.

He hears the plaintive howl piercing through the night. He knows that it’s Scott; calling him as he won’t answer his phone. He switched it off.  
He turns onto his side, burying his face in the pillow; he can’t stop the tears soaking into it. Doesn’t Scott get that he can’t risk being with him, he can’t risk hurting him. That he doesn’t deserve Scott.  
He feels the tightness of his skin again; he panics at the realisation he’s becoming that monster again and he doesn’t know how to control it, doesn’t know how to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be infrequent over the next few weeks as RL creates interruptions.
> 
> Last night when I posted I forgot to add this picture that inspired how I dressed Allison for her 'date' with Jed.  
> 


	15. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, real-life taking up more of my time and leaving less time to write.
> 
> As always this has not been proof-read or beta'd; all mistakes are my own.

Derek has just started to be able to move again when the sound of Stiles phone breaks through the air of dejection. Danny is still immobile; his head resting in Isaac’s lap as Isaac strokes his hair.  
It’s Lydia.

“Is Scott within hearing distance?” are the first words Stiles hears, “bearing in mind that lately I have gotten a crash course in the existence of werewolves and their supernatural abilities, for example, enhanced hearing.”  
“Do you even know how to how to start a conversation with good manners? Ya know like you’d say ‘Hi Stiles, it’s Lydia here, how are you?’ and then I’d reply ‘Hi Lydia I’m good thanks, apart from Jackson turning into the Kanima again an trying to kill Danny and Derek before he took off and then Scott running off after him…” he’s interrupted.  
“So, Scott’s not there; good, Allison didn’t want him to here this as it’s about the Kanima and therefore Jackson,” Lydia states. Derek he has overheard Lydia’s side of the conversation  
“Put it on speaker,” Derek commands Stiles as Lydia asks, “Who’s there with you?”  
Stiles gets the feeling he is being doubled Dom’d; if double Domming is a thing when one of the persons is on the other end of the phone and not officially a Dom.

Stiles switches his phone to speaker mode while reply, “I’m putting you on speaker; I’m here with Derek, Danny and Isaac.”  
“What do you know about the Kanima?” Derek interrogates over the phone.  
Lydia huffs in annoyance at Derek’s tone, “Allison asked me to translate some archaic Latin. Ms Morrells had incorrectly translated some of it; and Allison thinks that when Scott finds out he might need some help keeping control of his emotions.”  
“You _think_ Ms Morrells, sD7 Dominant, the hottest, smartest, teacher and guidance councillor at school, has mistranslated the text on the Kanima?” Stiles tone implies that it is not possible.  
“ **Stiles!** ” Derek and Lydia state in exasperation at the same time; Stiles has the feeling of being double Dom’d, again.  
Lydia continued, “Just because you find her hot, just because she is a teacher, and just because she is a profiled as an sD7 Dominant does not mean that she isn’t wrong about the translation.”  
“What did Ms Morrells incorrectly translate about the Kanima?” Derek asks his frustration scarcely evident in his self-control.  
“She had said that the Kanima seeks a friend, she was wrong, the Kanima seeks a Master,” Lydia sounded pleased with herself, “Allison thought that while Scott should know that someone else is controlling Jackson when he becomes the Kanima; that when he is told that Jackson is effectively submitting to someone else he will to react badly.”  
“Given his reaction to finding out Jackson was the Kanima I think that ‘ _badly_ ’ is an underestimation of how he’s gonna react,” Stiles arms are flailing wildly as he speaks; the phone he is holding waving around in air, “It will start like Luke’s reaction when Darth Vader says ‘ _Luke I Am Your Father_ ’, and he’ll be like ‘ _Nooooo, Noooooo_ ’ and then devolve into like a ‘Twin Peaks’ ending with Bob in control of Scott’s body”. Derek catches his hand; taking the phone from him.

“I’m sure Lydia caught all of that as you threw the phone around,” the look Derek gives him conveying the sarcasm, “Just as I’m sure it made sense to somebody.”  
“How do we tell him?” Danny asks; Stiles and Derek turn to look at him, still lying with his head in Isaac’s lap, “He has to be told, he has to know that the killing isn’t down to Jackson but whoever is controlling him.”  
“I’ll tell him,” Derek’s tone leaves no room argue.  
“The Kanima will only kill murderers, those that have taken another’s life,” Lydia continues.  
“That can’t be true,” Stiles knows this, “it went after Scott, Allison and Danny; I know they haven’t killed anyone. Right?” he says looking at Danny.  
“No I haven’t killed anyone, but he… it didn’t kill me either, or Scott or Allison. I only ended up paralysed; twice.”

“There is something else you need to know,” Lydia starts, a little less surely that before, “Allison’s parents have set her up on a date, she is out meeting the guy just now; that’s why I’m calling.”  
“Is this really something we need to know about?” Derek asks.  
“I’m getting to the point,” annoyance clear in her voice at Derek questioning the relevance; as if she would just gossip, “the guy is a submissive from a hunter family; they are new in town and moving here from Kentucky.” She can hear the sharp intake of breath, “I just thought you should know that more hunters were moving to town. I gotta go.”  
The line goes dead; no-one knows quite what to say.

“Gerard,” Derek says so quietly Stiles and Danny almost don’t hear him.  
“Allison’s scary grandfather, Master Gerard Argent, our,” Stiles gestures to Danny, Isaac and himself, “illustrious new headmaster,” his eye widen in realisation, “oh my god, _he’s a Master_ ; you think he’s **_the Master_** controlling the Kanima!”  
And that’s exactly what Derek is thinking; he saw the way that Gerard Argent acted around the Kanima and how it reacted to him. Argent was not afraid of the Kanima; he knew he was not in danger from it.  
“Why?” Danny asks; he’s now sitting with his back against the wall, Isaac sitting between his outstretched legs leaning against Danny’s chest. At the sharp look from Derek and Stiles he clarifies his question, “Why do you think that Argent is the Kanima’s Master?”  
Derek explains what he saw occur between the Kanima and Gerard Argent.  
“I don’t think he is,” Danny looks speculative; Isaac can feel the tension in him; both werewolves can hear his heartbeat increase, “it doesn’t tie with his ‘ _request_ ’.”  
“Explain.” Derek demands of him.

\--

**_Previously…_ **

Isaac has just left; somehow in one twenty-four hour period Danny has managed to destroy the trust that Stiles had in him, get beaten up by a werewolf, have Stiles rescind his acceptance of Danny’s claim to be his Dominant, and had Isaac, who is also a werewolf, submit to him and accept him as his Dominant. _Oh, and as part of all of that, there really are werewolves_.  
How much can his life get any stranger?

“Did you forget something Isaac?” Danny shouts out as he goes towards the front door, answering the knocking; _thinking to himself he should really use the doorbell_.  
“Mr Argent?” Danny’s surprise at the new headmaster being on his doorstep is evident; his voice rising in question at the end.  
“Mr Mahealani, you’re looking a lot better than I was expecting given the reports at the hospital.” The smile that headmaster gave him unnerved Danny more than the thought of meeting Derek Hale again.  
“What… what can I do for you?” Danny wasn’t even this nervous when Isaac first showed up; but that could have been the alcohol from the night before.  
“Can I come in?” The deceitful smile fades to a dishonest grin. “I just wanted to check up on you after the reports of the attack on you.” He pushes past Danny into the house without waiting for an answer; Danny recoils back from him and silently curses that he did, _after all aren’t you supposed to be a Dominant_.

“So tell me,” Argent begins, “would this big wild dog that attacked you happen to be called ‘Derek Hale’?”  
“How… what?” Danny feels more of balance; the tone and meter of Argent’s voice are on the edge of being inappropriate use of Dom skills, you just don’t dominate another Dominant.  
“Did he bite you?”  
The thought occurs to Danny that Argent knows about werewolves?

“No, he... the dog or whatever it was didn’t bite me,” Danny knows he is not normally this flustered, he needs to concentrate and focus on what he’s saying, “the creature that attacked me just scratched me.”  
“Really,” Argent looks directly at him, his face set and hard, it makes Danny want to look at the ground, but he won’t, he won’t allow the other Dominant make his submissive to him, “because being bitten by werewolf would explain the rapid healing you seem to have done; last night the way you looked the nurses and doctors at the ER were sure you have been gay-bashed or at least mugged.”  
Danny looks shocked, “I explained that I fell when getting away from the creature, that’s why my lip was busted.”  
“And look at it now, and your eye is not as swollen either…” the dishonest grin is back, “so either he gave you the bite or he licked you better,” Danny can’t keep the shock from his face, and he knows it gives something away, “well, we’ll keep that between us shall we; it isn’t common knowledge what they can do with their tongues, though I do believe it is rare.”  
“Especially given that it was the young pup, not his Alpha,” Danny knows his face is giving too much away, but he can’t look down, can’t tear his gaze away, “You claimed him as your sub, and he accepted…”  
“How would you know that, the Centre doesn’t give that information out unless you’re a legal guardian?” Danny’s indignation re-ignites his assertiveness.  
“Never mind, it’s not your little pet I want anyway. It’s his maker; and if you co-operate we’ll leave your pet alone. All you have to do is get information and pass that along to me; what Hale knows, where he’s hiding out, that sort of thing. Then when we bring the rest of the pack of rabid dogs down we’ll leave your dog alone.”

“Do I have a choice?” the defeat and resignation clear in Danny’s voice.

“What do you think?” the satisfaction of victorious clear in Gerard’s.

\--

When Danny finishes telling them of Gerard Argent’s visit to his home there is silence in the room. Isaac has stilled against him; he can feel the difference in the way Isaac holds his body, it seems so keyed to the way Derek seems coiled and ready for flight or fight. Only Stiles is moving, so agitated, his movements so full of nervous energy.

“You made a deal with Argent to bring down my pack,” the rage coiled and tensed ready to lash out from Derek’s not really a question.  
Danny pushes back against the wall, using it to leverage himself to his feet to face Derek; as Danny moves so does Isaac, keeping himself between Derek and Danny, until Danny places his hand on Isaac’s arm and steps in front of him.  
“If you think I’m going to apologies for not declining his offer you’re mistaken, but I didn’t agree to help him either. I bought myself time; he threatened me and my sub in my home. He made me feel vulnerable and I didn’t like that, but I don’t really see that I had a choice other than to let him think I would help him,” the anger Danny has at the way Argent treated him, the arrogance the man had in the way he talked down to him, fuels his assertive stance against Derek. “I’m not stupid; I know that he won’t keep his word if I give him what he wants; he’ll do exactly what he threatened to do if I don’t help him. He hates werewolves, and he hates you personally most of all. I don’t know why, though having been on the receiving end of your anger I could guess. Either way he intends to kill you and every wolf in your pack. Frankly, you I don’t care about; but I want to keep Isaac alive.”

“So, Danny, what do you plan to do?” Stiles asks; it’s the longest time that Stiles has remained silent, so he needed to speak; needed to say something to break the silence that followed Danny’s rebuttal at Derek.  
“I don’t know. For now, see how long I can get away with claiming that I haven’t found anything out,” Danny stares directly at Derek, “After all, I couldn’t possibly feel safe getting anywhere near the rabid monster that attacked me and tried to kill me; so how could I have gotten any info on it?”

They all agree that won’t work for long, and they’ll need a better plan; but it’s late.  
Isaac goes home with Danny; and Derek takes Stiles home, afterwards he needs to go track down Scott. But before he leaves Stiles he has something to take care of with his sub.

\--

Stiles is confused when Derek follows him into the house, and by the small knapsack he’s carrying.  
“Didn’t you say you were going to find Scott and keep him from doing something stupid?” His confusion is not lessened by Derek’s response.  
“I will be; I need to take care of something first.”

Derek took hold of Stiles’ arm, gripping him tightly, and led him upstairs.  
“Ooh, rough sexytimes fun,” Stiles snickered.  
“No,” Derek didn’t elaborate as he directed them into Stiles’ bedroom.

Derek turned the chair at the computer desk to face the room and sat down, he placed the knapsack beside the chair. For this he wasn’t going near the bed. This wasn’t about fun. Stiles had defied him; in front of Scott and Erica Derek had given him clear instruction, and Stiles, his submissive, had ignored him. He really should not have waited so long to deal with that disobedience.  
He should have dealt with it once they had Jackson secured; but there was no way he was going to punish Stiles while he was still angry, so he had waited until his anger had subsided, and they all needed to sleep and eat. Then he had to deal with Scott returning with Danny and Isaac.  
Now he needed to remind Stiles of their earlier conversation; he needed to explain to him why he was being punished and exactly how he was going to punish him.

“You disobeyed me.” Stiles’ face scrunches up in mix of bewilderment and ‘don’t be stupid’.  
“When?”  
“At Scott’s house.” The look of bewildered ‘don’t be stupid’ mash-up is replaced with the beginning of concern and ‘I don’t remember that’.  
“I don’t re…”  
“I told you to go home, you didn’t, and you followed Scott following me to where the Kanima was.”  
“But…”  
“No,” Derek’s voice is solid, assertive and leaving no room for disagreement, “I told you to go home, you did not. Do you recall our conversation previously?” Stiles currently can’t think past ‘oh fuck’; he shakes his head unable to answer.  
“Our conversation on how our relationship would work. We agreed that if you were unable to follow an order I gave you in public you would safe-word loud enough for only me to hear. We would talk, we would compromise. You didn’t.”  
Stiles hadn’t even thought about it. Sure he remembered Derek saying ‘go home’, but then he had gone and Scott was heading out after him and Stiles just followed.  
“You were gone before I thought about it,” Stiles blurts out on impulse, he knows it’s an excuse; as soon as he says it he knows even Scott wouldn’t buy it. Derek was only just out the door, he would have heard Stiles say something, he’s a werewolf, and he’s the freaking Alpha. He can’t look Derek in the eye, instead keeping his head down and eyes on the carpet.  
“Stiles.” Stiles can feel the blush creep up his face.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Do you remember our talk in the pool?” At Stiles frown Derek continues, “You were fantasying about getting a spanking as punishment. I pointed out that if you were looking forward to it then it wasn’t punishment. So, I’m going to give you a spanking, and you’re going to know that it is a punishment. Strip.”

Stiles rushes out of his clothes. Partly because he doesn’t want to upset Derek any more than he already has; and partly because Derek had spanked him before and he had really, really, enjoyed it. _Seriously, how different could this be_?

Derek opens the knapsack and takes out a pair of leather gloves and a thick wooden hairbrush. He lays the hairbrush on the computer desk in easy reach, making sure that Stiles notices it, and then slips each of the gloves on. He sees the questioning look Stiles has.  
“I’m wearing the gloves so there is a barrier between us. I’ll start by spanking you with my gloved hand for thirty minutes; and then I’ll be switching to use the brush, and you’ll get twelve swats with the back of the brush.” Derek can hear the jackhammer thudding of Stiles’ heartbeat, caught between arousal and nervousness of the unknown. “Lie across my knee.”  
Derek traps Stiles legs under one of his, and holds one of Stiles’ arms in the middle of his back; keeping him still.  
“You know why I’m punishing you Stiles, don’t you?”  
“Because I disobeyed you, and I broke our agreement,” Stiles timidly voices.  
“Yes, but it’s also because you are the most important thing in my life; you are precious to me Stiles; and when you followed another Dom and put yourself in danger to help them you didn’t think about how I, your Dom and your Mate, would feel. What if I hadn’t been there Stiles? What if I had not been able to help stop Jackson and he had hurt or killed you?” Derek can’t keep the emotion out of his voice; the concern he feels over the possibility that he wouldn’t have been able to protect his Mate. His gloved hand lands with a resounding SMACK against Stiles’ ass.

From the first landing of Derek’s gloved hand against his ass Stiles has known that yes there is a difference between a sexytimes spanking and this. The leather of the glove feels so different to when Derek spanked him with his bare hand. The leather is rough, it scratches when it makes contact with his skin. Each successive slap is aggravating the skin that has been tenderised by the previous slaps. Any blood that had been flowing to his cock has diverted away in acknowledgement that this is not enjoyable.  
Stiles is not sure how long Derek has been spanking him, but he still hasn’t switched to the hairbrush and Stiles is already in tears and bawling like a little kid that he’ll be a good boy and won’t disobey Derek again. His pleading is to no avail as Derek keeps to the blistering pace of leather against reddening ass.

The first THWACK of the back of the wooden hairbrush on his spanked bare bottom rips a scream from Stiles. It is the sorest thing he can remember feeling, until the second one. The next four are delivered with deliberate slowness; THWACK, pause, THWACK, pause, THWACK, pause, THWACK.  
Derek watches the change in colour; the darkening of the reds, the patches of bruising. He’s torn in two; his Dominant nature needs Stiles to understand that he can’t just disobey him, but Stiles is his Mate, and his Mate is in pain, upset and crying; that makes him want to stop and comfort him, to take the pain away. But he has to shut that side of his feelings away, while Stiles is his Mate he is also his submissive; he has to be able to punish him when he disobeys.  
The next two are quickly struck, one to each cheek; Stiles bucks and struggles to move but is held fast by Derek. The final four land with steady rhythm alternating to the left and right cheeks of Stiles’ swollen dark red ass.

Stiles’ throat is raw from the crying and screaming. Derek has removed the leather gloves and is rubbing Stiles’ back with one hand and running the other through his hair; giving him comfort, and giving confirmation that the punishment is over. He pulls Stiles up and wraps his arms around him. Stiles hisses as his ass cheeks meet the denim of Derek’s jeans.

Neither of them is hard, neither of them enjoyed this; that wasn’t what it was about. Derek keeps rubbing his hand over Stiles’ back, laying gentle kisses over his neck and shoulders.  
“I’m sorry,” Stiles croaks, his voice still weak, “I’ll try to be the sub you need me to be.”  
“All I need you to do Stiles is what we agreed we each would do to make this work,” Derek kisses the back of his neck, “Let’s get you cleaned up, I have some lotion for your ass; then I need to go track down Scott and stop him doing something stupid.”

Derek leaves the hairbrush on Stiles’ computer desk. Stiles is convinced it’s taunting him as he lies on his stomach in bed; he considers burning it, but it was probably forged by Sauron himself and needs to be thrown into the fires of Mount Doom. Anyway, Derek would notice it was gone when he gets back after stopping Scott from doing whatever Scott thinks is a good plan to deal with Jackson.

\--

Derek tracks Scott to the Sheriff’s station; he also recognises Melissa McCall’s car haphazardly parked out front. Scott was there answering some questions on where Jackson was; Jackson’s phone and ripped clothes were found in his bedroom. He can hear Scott answer in an increasingly whiney howl; he doesn’t know where Jackson is; he doesn’t know why his clothes where ripped and left in his room; he doesn’t know why his phone was there; he’d never do anything to harm Jackson; he wants to know where his sub is too, he wants to find him and help him. Every question is raising Scott’s anxiety, lessening his control. It’s also causing Derek’s wolf to need to protect his beta.  
Abruptly the questioning ends, with the usual conditions that they may to talk further and not to leave town. Derek overhears Scott’s mom she’s talking about _being concerned about Scott’s late nights, about the fact he’s failing classes and may be won’t graduate with the rest of his class_. He slips out before anyone notices him and heads to Scott’s certain that his mother will take him straight home.

Scott is exhausted, both physically and emotionally, as he enters his bedroom he closes the door and heads straight for his window. Before he can open it and climb through someone grabs his arm, he turns to see Derek stopping him. _He hadn’t even sensed his Alpha’s presence_.  
“You’re not going anywhere,” concern is etched across Derek’s face as he looks at Scott.  
“I need to find Jackson,” Scott cries in a broken whine.  
Derek pulls Scott to him, wrapping his arms around him and holding him against his body.  
“I know you need to find your Mate, you feel lost without him, out of sorts and can’t concentrate,” Derek’s voice soft against Scott’s ear.  
“Yes.”  
“That’s because he’s not just your Mate, but he’s your submissive too,” Derek explains, “your wolf is pining, wanting to howl for his Mate, and your Dominant nature is searching for that control you had with him; and both of those are pulling you along, tiring you and lessening your control. You can’t go look for him, not until you’ve rested, then we need to talk.” Derek was not going to tell him about the Kanima being controlled, not until after Scott had slept and wasn’t running on instinct.  
“No, I need to…” Derek doesn’t let him finish, “No Scott. I know you need find your Mate; I know you need to be with him, to comfort him. I should be with my Mate, I should be comforting Stiles. I punished him then left him to find you, to make sure you are okay, because you are pack and you need me.”  
“Why did you punish Stiles?” confusion evident in Scott’s look and voice, “Stiles is your Mate?” Scott’s not sure when his head started resting against Derek’s shoulder, but Derek’s hand rubbing his back feels nice; and his scent is nice, it smells like safety, comfort and pack. Scott edges his nose closer to the crook of Derek’s neck, breathing in more deeply.  
“I punished Stiles because he disobeyed me; I told him to go home and he followed you instead. So you are as much to blame for his spanking as he is; you heard me tell him to go home and you still allowed him to disobey me.” Derek licks along Scott’s jawline, comforting and calming his beta.  
“Stiles likes being spanked.” Scott’s words are little more than a sleepy murmur.  
“Not tonight he didn’t.”

Derek manoeuvres them both to Scott’s bed; keeping hold of Scott and pulling him down onto the bed with him. Scott languorously licks along Derek’s neck, acting purely on instinct, returning the comfort his Alpha is giving him.  
Part of Scott wonders how he ended up in his bed naked with Derek, both of them wrapped around each other, licking along each other’s necks, jawlines and mouths; _and why is he okay with following Derek’s lead? Part of him says he’s with pack; he’s tired and safe and he should let his Alpha take care of him _. In the morning they’ll find his Mate.__

__\--_ _

___Allison meets Jedidiah outside ‘ _Nams__ ’, her grandfather has made the reservation; and transferred money to her account to cover the cost of the meal, and service.  
He’s casually, but smartly, dressed; wearing a pair of dark coloured chinos and plaid shirt, open at the neck. His handshake is nervous and awkward, his glance dancing between the ground and her eyes; mostly he looks at the ground. At his actions, Allison quirks her eyebrows questioningly.  
“Sorry,” his apology, Allison is unsure for what, is spoken to his chest.  
“It’s okay, Jedidiah, or do people call you Jed?” she asks, trying to catch his eye and hold his gaze.  
“Jed is fine.” He still only glances up before his eyes dart downwards again.  
“You can look at me Jed,” Allison keeps her tone light and friendly, “I’d actually prefer it if you looked at me while we talked.” _A person’s eyes often say more than their words_.  
“Yes ma’am.” He looks up, a tight smile around his lips.  
“Shall we go in,” Allison walks ahead of him into the restaurant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't covered all the points I intended in this chapter. In reviewing and reworking it before posting I moved some things around that had been planned for later chapters (Danny/Gerard) and some bits got away from me and became more than I intended (Derek/Scott). So Allison's date with Jedidiah will be next chapter as will someone seeing something and jumping to the wrong conclusion.


	16. Meetings and Misunderstandings (Part1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely happy with this chapter and will probably rework some of it as I finish tidying up the next one.
> 
> As always no-one has proof-read or beta'd this; all mistakes are mine, I have corrected some of the typo's I've found so far.

Allison’s hand is placed possessively on Jed’s back as they are shown to their table. She can see the wonder in the glimpses of his face as he looks around the dining area, taking in the sight of the kneeling partially clothed submissives serving at the tables. None of the submissives that serve the tables are collared; some working here hoping to impress with their submission and service, and find a Dominant willing to claim them.  
As they arrive at their table the submissive that will be serving them pulls Allison’s chair out for her to sit, before kneeling on the cushion by the table; Jed is left to arrange his own chair.  
Allison can see how Jed’s eyes trail the submissive; never leaving their smooth and firm body, the silver chain connecting his nipple rings jingling as he moves to kneel, the silver chain around his neck with the silver disc stamped with ‘27’, the table number, sitting over his collarbone. Yet, he doesn’t misjudge the position of the chair as he sits; his movements poised and agile.  
As Jed sits their server reaches across the table and places the leather bound menu in Allison’s hands, before handing Jed a laminated copy, clearly delineating their positions of Dominant and submissive.  
“Jed, are there any foods that you are allergic to?” Allison asks as she purviews the appetisers, “Or anything that you particularly don’t like?” Allison thought leading her to conclude that, as he is a higher rated submissive than she is rated as a Dominant, Jed would be looking for someone who would take more control, someone who would order for both of them. It’s not something she would normally do; but then she thinks to herself, _this is the first time I have actually been on a ‘date’ with a submissive, even if it is just two hunter’s gathering information on each other; but if that is all that’s happening why would the Koch’s leave their submissive sibling alone with a Dominant?_  
“No ma’am,” Jed’s eyes wandering over the menu in confusion, “I don’t think there is any food I have ever had a problem with.”  
Allison turns to address their server and orders _Fried Salted Calamari_ and _BBQ Pork Meatball Rolls_ as their appetisers and _Beef with Lemongrass and Hot Pepper_ , and _Sweet and Sour Chicken_ for their main course; both with steamed rice. Allison asks for more iced water to be brought to the table, informing the kneeling sub to keep the water jugs filled. The server rises from the table and heads to the service area to place the order.  
“Your eyes never leave his nipple rings,” Allison comments, returning her attention to Jed, “is that something you’d like your Dom to do to you? Pierce your nipples with silver rings and attach the chain connecting them? So they could play with them, pull the chain taut, tugging on the rings running through your flesh?”  
He licks his lips before replying, “I… it’s a nice idea, I’m not sure silver would suit me though,” hesitantly adding, “maybe a darker colour?” His eyes searching hers while his head remains slightly bowed.  
“Maybe,” an upward twitch of her lips at the thought, “Titanium might suit you, but I think something shiny, like Zircon Gold; the ones I’ve seen seem to standout more than gold.” _Why was she talking about piercing his nipples, she needed to get him talking about his family and why they were moving to Beacon Hills_.  
Their server returned with the iced water, he refills their glasses before placing the pitcher in the centre of the table he returned to his position kneeling on the cushion by the table.

“Tell me Jed, how long has it been since you submitted to a Dom?”  
“Wh… why do you ask?”  
“Am I making you nervous?” she smiles coyly across the table at him, his eyes flicking between the glass of ice water sitting on the table between his hands and her face, “I don’t mean to, but it gives me the impression that you haven’t been alone with a Dom for a while, at least not one that wasn’t family, and therefore you haven’t had the chance to submit for a while; am I right?”  
She watches as his tongue flicks across his lips, his Adams-apple bobs as he swallows and his eyes dart to the jingling chain pulling at the nipples of their server as he rises to fetch their first course. She can see the tension coiled in him; a submissive whose needs are unmet, whose desires unfulfilled; but there is more, something in her sees that there is more.  
His eyes return to the glass in front of him.  
“It’s been a while; there aren’t many people in Bracken County, even fewer in Brooksville, and when your family get a reputation for being ornery and unfriendly; well what few unattached Dominants there are they ain’t likely to look too fondly on the one and only submissive in that family.”  
“So why pick Beacon Hills?”  
“I’d been in the area a little while back, checking out the Engineering and Technology Office at the local college, it was around the time y’all had those murders,” he gives her a knowing look as the server returns, “but those plans got put on hold when Dad got sick. He’s gone now.”  
Allison knows there is something she's missing, she picks up one of the calamari rings between her fingers and holds it out across the table towards Jed. She notices how his eyes widen before taking on the darkened half-lidded look as he leans forward, lips parted as they slip across her fingers to snare the offered food; his tongue licking along her fingertips cleaning the slight crumbs sticking to them.

“So what were you going to study?”  
“I was looking to get into the ‘Automotive Technology Program’, there’s a two year program and then I could get a job as an automotive technician,” Jed’s voice was slow and breathy, as if he was still stuck back at the point of her fingers in his mouth; he desperately needs to submit if the small things she has done so far affect as much as they seem to.  
Allison’s brow furrowed as she wondered what an ‘ _automotive technician_ ’ was, and then she got it _a car mechanic_.  
“So, Jed, would you be moving here on your own to study?” she asked him seductively; at least she hoped it was, but the question seemed to bring Jed’s attention back fully on the conversation.  
“No,” he starts, “no I wouldn’t; my elder sister would be with me, at least until I was collared. She was a friend of your aunts; that’s why she was keen for me to meet with you.” Jed looks clearly at Allison for the first time since they met, “Your aunt had a lot of the same philosophy as my family, especially my sister; they hunted together sometimes.”  
As the server clears away their empty plates Allison suddenly doesn’t feel so hungry.

\--

Melissa McCall knew her son wasn’t up; not after last night’s events at the station, Scott’s clear distress over whatever has happened with the Whittemore boy that he seems to have fixated on being his sub. But, he has a make-up test for chemistry today, she doubts that he did any studying for it last night, and she has a late shift at the hospital and enough chores to complete around the house before she leaves for work; so she needs Scott up, out and off to school.

As she swings open his bedroom door to enter and wake him up she is stopped in her tracks at the sight. Scott and some older dark-haired young man, both at least half-naked, in Scott’s bed and _they appear to be licking each other’s necks and jawline_.  
“ **SCOTT, what the hell!** ” _So much for Scott being fixated on Jackson Whittemore, though this guy doesn’t look very submissive_.

\--

“I can’t believe you didn’t hear her before she came into the room!” Scott slumps back in the passenger seat of the Chevrolet Camaro.  
“I did hear her,” Derek snaps back at him, “but you said she didn’t come into your room without knocking and announcing herself.”  
“But now she thinks I need re-assessed, she thinks I’m submitting to you!”  
“Yes, what else would she think?” Scott sharply turns to glower at him.  
“Derek!” Scott exclaims in exasperation, “God, can my life get any worse?”  
“I’m not your god I’m your Alpha,” Derek attempts at joke, because he knows he’s about to make Scott’s life seem just a little worse, “and yes, it can be worse.” He informs Scott of the translation that Lydia gave them, of the fact that someone is controlling Jackson; and he also tells him about Gerard Argent threatening Isaac to get Danny to infiltrate the pack so that he can feed information on them to him.

Scott is quiet; Derek can sense the mix of emotions roiling around him, the tang of his scent blending anger, fear, and self-doubt. As the car nears the school Scott finally talks.  
“Gerard might believe that I’m working for him too.”  
“Why?”  
“The night that he insisted I join them for dinner, the night that the Kanima had trapped you and Stiles in the pool…”  
Derek waits for Scott to continue.  
“…when I went to pick up my mom, he was there, he stabbed me, and threatened to kill my mom if I didn’t agree to a deal with him; to get in with you and your pack and feed him information to help him get you.”  
Scott is looking down at his hands clasped in his lap, he startles at the feel of Derek’s hand gripping affectionately on the back of his neck.  
“I’m glad you told me,” Derek grins over at him as he parks the car in front of the school, “here’s what you’re gonna do.”

\--

“Scott McCall to the Principal’s Office,” blares over the Tannoy system. Scott nods to Stiles as he changes direction and goes to speak with Gerard Argent; he’s fairly certain that it is concerned with the fact the Derek Hale dropped him off at school today.

“Mr McCall, I see you were chauffeured to school by someone other than Mr Stilinski today.” Argent is sitting behind his desk, smiling; but knowing him as Scott does he doesn’t mistake it for the benevolent smile anyone would expect from a doting grandfather figure that Gerard portrays himself as, he sees the cold calculation behind it. Scott’s standing in front of the desk looking down on Gerard.  
“No, I wasn’t.”  
“I take it that you’ve accepted my proposition,” Gerard grins; Scott feels the hair on the back of his neck rise, “given the very public nature of him dropping you off.”  
“Remind me of your proposition,” Scott needs to push, to play hard; that’s what he and Derek agreed; Scott’s a Dominant, he needs to remind Argent of that.  
“Don’t push me son, it’s a simple yes or no answer.”  
“I’m not your son,” Scott all but growls out at him, “you made me an offer, remind me why I was going to help you.”  
“So that I’d help you ensure nothing happened to mother.” It’s still obviously a threat despite the way Gerard words it.  
“And?” Scott pushes, “I recall you saying there was more if I helped you get Derek and his pack.”  
“And I’ll make sure there are no objections to you dating Allison; we both know she’s not that much of Dominant.” Scott is fighting his growing anger at the man; Scott has to make him believe he is giving in to him.  
“The only reason you broke-up with her and took up with that Whittemore submissive was her assessment as a Dominant; hell years ago she would have been profiled as a Switch,” Gerard blusters on, he’s counting on Scott’s sadism as much as his dominant nature.  
“And we both know how it’s possible for a Dominant to make another submit to their will, if there’s enough of a difference in their profiles,” Scott says forcing a smile at Gerard.  
“Exactly,” Gerard grins back at Scott, knowing he has no intention of letting the mongrel get his paws on his granddaughter; he’ll wipe out all of Hales mongrel pack once he gets what he wants.  
Scott knows it too.

\--

Stiles is walking quickly away. His head is a maelstrom after what he just heard while passing the principal’s office; he wasn’t lurking around outside to overhear what Argent wanted with Scott, even though he was; and he didn’t follow Scott there, though he did.  
After he saw him get out of his Dom’s, his Mate’s, car; his Dom who didn’t turn up this morning like he said he would, who spent the night with Scott and drove Scott to school. His Dom who spanked him as a punishment last night and promised to check on him this morning and didn’t. His Dom, his Mate, that Scott was back-stabbing and betraying to the fucking code-breaking hunters, the Argents; all so that he could get Allison back and be allowed to force her to submit to him, even though she’s a Dominant.  
Fucking Scott! What was he thinking, well clearly he wasn’t; not with the head on the top of his shoulders anyway; a Dom just doesn’t top another Dominant. It just isn’t done.  
He can’t believe what he just heard, how could Scott give up on Jackson so easily?  
After everything he has been saying; after how happy he had been when Jackson accepted his claim. Stiles had never seen him so vomit inducing blissful, except when he had been with Allison.  
And with Scott, since he had first seen her on the school steps, eventually everything came back to Allison.  
Stiles knew he had to talk to Derek, to warn him; he also had to punch Scott in the face, hard; or get a switch of Mountain Ash and cane him with it. He wasn’t sure which he’d do first, and he didn’t have switch of Mountain Ash to hand, so that was out.  
 _Would a caning with a switch of Mountain Ash be a suitable punishment for a submissive werewolf? Would a Dominant werewolf be able to use it for punishment of their sub? Would Derek be able to use it on him the next time he punishes him for being disobedient? Maybe if he wore the leather gloves? And why was he thinking about there being a next time Derek would punish him? Stiles knew he didn’t intend to be disobedient again_.

\--

Scott is standing outside the classroom, waiting on Mr Harris; Isaac practically has his nose pressed against Scott’s skin, sniffing his scent with deep inhales of breath.  
“Why do you smell so much like Derek?” Isaac breath warm against the nape of Scott’s neck, Scott fights the instinct to nuzzle against Isaac’s cheek; _the thought at the forefront of his mind to give and gain comfort from his packmate_.  
“Derek was with me last night,” Scott loops a finger through one of the D-rings in Isaac’s shiny new collar and pulls him back slightly, ignoring the raised eyebrow, “nice collar.”  
“Danny gave it to me,” Isaac is beaming, he’s clearly happy at having the collar to wear, “we know it isn’t official as we haven’t graduated yet, but you know.”  
“I know,” Scott smiles back.  
“And guess what it’s called.”  
“It’s a wolf collar,” Scott replies, the smile slipping from his mouth, “Jackson has one; I told him I ought to make him wear it to school, show everyone he belonged to me; but I wasn’t going to, not until I had it modified. I sent it to the Centre to have the studs replaced with small spikes; it hasn’t come back yet.” The bell rings half way through Scott’s reply.

\--

Neither Scott nor Isaac noticed him, but Jackson saw them; clearly. Isaac all over Scott; Isaac with a collar just like the one he has. He can’t make out most of what they are saying, but then he hears Scott say ‘ _I told him I ought to make him wear it to school, show everyone he belonged to me; but I wasn’t going to…_ ’  
The bell suddenly drowning out everything else, the noise and pain pounding through his head; but he had already heard enough. He should have known he wouldn’t be good enough for Scott; that Scott would eventually realise that and look to someone like himself. He expected it, especially now, and he wanted to have a reason to keep his distance; to be able protect Scott from whatever it was he was becoming. But it still hurt; he didn’t expect that.


	17. Meetings and Misunderstandings (Part2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine; no-one has proof-read or beta'd this chapter.

Danny saw Jackson heading towards the changing rooms; he had tried to catch Jackson all morning between classes to see if he had spoken to Scott, but Jacks just kept avoiding him. He assumed he was doing the same with Scott, so he was determined to follow him in there and ambush him; force him to listen and hopefully see sense. Danny knew that Jackson was going to need help; he was sure the hunters would kill him, Derek would probably take that option too if he saw an opportunity to do so before being able to save him; Scott was the only one Danny believed would do whatever it took to save Jackson. He just needed to convince Jackson of that; and convince him not to shut them out and let them help him.  
As he’s about to push the door open he hears a noise; it’s not scream, but it sounds like Jackson is in distress, in some sort of pain.

“Jackson,” he shouts as he walks through, the door closing behind him.  
“In here.” Danny hears Jackson’s voice coming from the showers; he sounds somewhat offhand; and disconnected.  
Danny walks round and finds him standing naked under the steaming spray cascading down from the showerhead. Jackson turns the water off as he turns to stand facing him; his expression cold.  
“I wanted to talk,” Danny starts, but something in Jacksons features, his posture, makes him think that right now is not a good time, “but it can wait.” He turns to leave. Jackson appears in front of him, his body close, backing him against the wall, his arm out hand against the tiles blocking his exit, everything in his stance and aggressiveness showing nothing of his naturally submissive nature. Water is running down his still naked form; rivulets are coursing down his chest, between his pecs. Danny nervously licks his lips; he isn’t sure whether from the very wrong thoughts popping into his head or the fear arriving with the certainty that he is not facing Jackson, at least not just Jackson.

\--

Stiles should be heading to his submissive class and normally he would, especially as Mr Harris is busy giving Scott his chemistry test, so they’ll have one of the other teachers substituting; but he finds himself wandering the halls trying to focus his thoughts, calm his brain and rising temper. The conversation he overheard between Scott and grandpa Argent still has him riled up. Damn Scott and his lack of sense; _how could he think of doing something so stupid, and morally wrong?_

Stiles swiftly finds himself with his back against the wall; Erica’s clawed hand holding him in place.  
“Why aren’t you in sub class?” Erica asks grinning like the Cheshire cat, “You obviously need lessons on being a good obedient sub when your Dom needs to punish you.”  
“Why have you got your claws out on camera?” Stiles retorts; she quickly looks round, her claws retracting, as Stiles pushes forward, “that’s right; you wanna be Catwoman then I’ll be your Batman.”  
Stiles suddenly focuses on the last sentence Erica said, “What makes you think Derek punished me?” He knows his ass is bruised and sore; but he’s certain werewolves don’t have x-ray vision; _do they?_  
“Derek told me…” the rest of Erica’s sentence cut-off as Stiles interrupts.  
“ ** _Derek told you!_** ” he exclaims, arms swinging wildly, “ ** _why would he tell you about punishment spanking me with the wooden hairbrush? Why would he tell you such a thing?_** ”  
“He told me mind my own business when I asked him why he wanted me to keep an eye on you today. He wanted to make sure you were okay, but you haven’t answered any text messages; so he texted me to keep to watch over you. Isaac had said that Scott and Derek spent the night together, so I figured that you and Derek must have done something before that and he didn’t do his duty as your Dominant for him to want me to shadow you all day. I was just winging it…” Stiles interrupts her again.  
“You… you didn’t know.”  
“Until you confirmed it,” Erica’s grin is wider; Stiles didn’t think that was possible.

\--

Scott is sitting in the classroom, test paper in front of him, watching the clock tick ever closer to the hour; the hour is nearly over and he hasn’t completed the exam paper. He returns his attention to the next question when his head snaps up.

His ears straining he hears a heartbeat, a familiar heartbeat; Jacksons’.

Looking back at the clock on the wall his hour to complete the test is clearly over. He grabs the paper and rushes to place it on Harris’ desk.  
“Where do you think you’re going?” the teacher asks.  
“The hour is up,” Scott states forcefully, trying to rein his instincts in.  
“Do I need to remind you Mr McCall about appropriate D/s behaviours?” Harris all but sneers at him, “Have you not been paying attention in Ms Morrell’s classes?” less forcefully the teacher insists, “You don’t leave this class until all the questions are answered.”  
Suppressing a growl Scott quickly fills the remainder of the multiple choice questions marking the second column for every question, and rushes out the door. Mr Harris briskly follows.

\--

Stiles is checking his phone, five missed calls and fifteen text messages; all from Derek. Somehow he had left it on silent and hadn’t felt the vibrations.  
“So, just why are you bunking off class?” Erica purrs beside his ear.  
“I just need time alone to work something out,” Stiles says; typing a reply to Derek, _‘I'm fyn, Erica S hre. We nd 2 tlk bout Scott’_.

\--

“No, I think this is the perfect time to talk,” Jackson leans in close, their faces almost touching, “So, tell me Danny, what do you want to talk about, eh?” Danny’s mouth feels dry; licking his lips his eyes never leave Jacksons’ as he continues venting at him.  
“How about the fact that every Dom I’ve trusted as lied to me, is that what you Dominants do for kicks, is it; tell us what we want to hear to get us to submit to you then pass us around while you play with the next one? You fool around with Stiles and then pass him on to Derek while picking up Isaac; now you’re bored with him and passing him on to Scott. What you want me to be your next conquest, is that it? Want me to bend over while you smack my ass, get it all heated up and red for you before line up and shove…argh!”  
Jackson doubles over as Danny’s knee connects; he can’t believe his friend would think those things of him. He turns to leave the changing room and suddenly feels Jackson rush into his back propelling him forward.

\--

Scott is rushing down the corridor towards the changing rooms; ahead of him he sees Stiles and Erica.  
“Stiles,” Scott shouts in greeting as he comes level with them, “what are you doing h…”  
Stiles arm swings back, his backpack flying off, the tablet with the Bestiary sliding out along the floor, his arm swinging forward and his closed fist connecting with Scott’s eye.  
At the same time Danny comes through the changing room door, sprawling onto the floor with a naked and wet Jackson landing on his back.

“What’s going on here!” yells Mr Harris; surveying the sprawl of students in front of him.

Matt taps Stiles on the shoulder, “I think you dropped this,” he smiles, handing Stiles’ backpack, with the tablet back inside, to him.

“No one going to explain?” Mr Harris looks around the students, “Fine, then all of you,” he points his index finger outwards waving his hand around Danny, Jackson, Stiles, Scott, Erica and Matt, “have detention, three o’clock. And Jackson, I thought we covered when it was permissible for submissives to be naked in public; I don’t see a collar around your neck, and even if there were as you have not graduated high school it would mean nothing,” he sneers, almost biting the _nothing_ off as it leaves his mouth, “I suggest you put some clothes on.”

\--

Matt is walking down the corridor browsing through the file he copied to his tablet, some kind of book called a _‘Bestiary’_ , when he walks into Allison.  
“Sorry,” automatically jumps from his mouth as he looks up, “oh, hey, Allison, did you hear about the underground show? Apparently they have some big names spinning…”  
“You mean the rave?”  
“I’ve got a friend that could get us tickets, if you’re interested, do you want me to get you one?”  
“No; thanks Matt, but I already have two tickets to take the sub my parents set me up with.”

As Allison walks away she doesn’t see the murderous glower Matt directs at her; she doesn’t hear the quiet clenched pronouncement **_‘I will be your sub’_**.

\--

At three o’clock they traipse into the library; Stiles and Erica sit at one table, Matt, Danny and Scott at another, and Jackson sits by himself.

Scott looks over at Jackson; he’s sitting hunched at the table, looking vulnerable and afraid. Scott wants to go over to him, to comfort and protect him, but he can’t. He had tried to talk to him after the events at the changing room; but he wouldn’t listen, he just ignored everything Scott was saying to him, but Scott kept trying. He eventually left him alone when Jackson said _‘You know my dad wants to abjure your claim on me, so right now you should leave me alone’_. Scott felt as if a cold hand and reached inside him and wrapped its fingers around his heart. His instinct was to seize a hold of Jackson, throw him against a wall, burying his face in the crook of his neck biting down and growl **_‘Mine’_**. He didn’t go with his instinct; he walked to the door, opened it to walk through turning to his submissive, his Mate, saying _‘I promise you Jacks, I’m going to find out who’s controlling you and stop them; I’m going to find out how to save you; you’re mine and I won’t give up on you’_ ; he fled from the room then, he could feel the tears in his eyes threatening to spill.

Jackson can barely look at Danny. He knows he attacked him, Scott had told him while he was explaining about the Kanima seeks a Master; that someone was controlling him. He didn’t remember anything about it, except a feeling rage at something unjust. How many people has the Kanima’s Master made him hurt or kill? How can he not remember? It terrifies him.  
He knew then, with certainty that he had to make Scott stay away from him. But he couldn’t lie to Scott, he’s a werewolf, he’d know. He had to stick to something that was truthful. He recalled the Sherriff telling him his father wanted to abjure Scott’s claim, he’d start with that; and he knew that if someone was controlling him, a Master, then his Dominant was not safe around him and had to stay away from him, had to leave him alone. Jackson was sure that as soon as the words had left him Scott’s heart had stopped, that he wasn’t breathing; he stilled so much, the shock of his expression and the hurt in those puppy like brown eyes made Jackson want to take it all back; almost. He had to save Scott from whatever the Master might make the Kanima do. But, when he thinks back on Scott’s parting words, _‘you’re mine and I won’t give up on you’_ , he feels the nausea rising in him again at the hurt he caused his Dom; he wanted to tell him _‘I’ll always be yours’_ , but he couldn’t; he couldn’t say those words and mean them, not now.

“I need to use the bathroom,” Jackson says standing sharply from the chair; he’s sweating and looks a little nauseous.  
“Jackson, are you alright?” Harris worriedly asks, “You don’t look so good.”  
“I just need to get some water,” Jackson says leaving the library.  
“No one leaves their seats,” Harris tells the rest of the group before following Jackson out.

Danny wants to talk to Scott; to tell him about trying to talk to Jackson, to ask him not to give up on him; but with Matt sitting next to them he sits quietly waiting for detention to be over.

Scott is worried about Jackson, he looked sick as he left to go to the bathroom, but he didn’t smell like he was ill; there’s not much he can do here. He tries to listen to the whispered conversation between Stiles and Erica; but that is as confusing as Stiles punching him earlier, which he still doesn’t know what that was about. Stiles is asking Erica about Jacksons real parents, they died in a car accident and Jackson is going to get a large settlement when he turns eighteen; Jackson was born the day after they died.  
Scott’s thoughts are pulled back from the conversation when Jackson walks back into the room, followed by Mr Harris. He doesn’t look any better than before he left; possibly worse as he slumps back into the chair he was sitting in.

Mr Harris closes his briefcase and is about to leave; everyone gets up to leave behind him, until he turns to them, laughing at them, as he says, “No, I’m leaving, but none of you are. You can go when you are done with the re-shelving; enjoy your evening.”

“For a sub he’s damnably sadistic,” Danny decries.

\--

Every time Scott walks into the an aisle where Stiles is stacking books Stiles moves to another; Scott really hasn’t a clue what he’s done; whenever he tries to ask it results in him being on the receiving end of Stiles’ angry face with his finger wagging at him as he states _‘You know what you’ve done’_. But really he doesn’t; he wonders, _is it anything to do with him with Derek?_

“Is this anything to do with Derek punishing you because of me?” Scott asks rather too loudly resulting in Danny, Matt and Jackson all turning to look at Stiles and Scott.  
“What…” Stiles is lost for words, he turns to Erica with _‘did you tell him look’_ whom he is guessing didn’t by the shocked expression she has; and then he thinks _what does he mean because of me?_ “What do you mean because of you?” Scott takes Stiles off to the side away from where Danny, Matt and Jackson will hear them talk; though he knows Erica will still overhear everything.  
“Last night Derek said that he was with me when he should have been with you as he’d had to give you a punishment spanking and that I was partly to blame for him punishing you,” Scott whispered through gritted teeth.  
“Yeah, well, that’s as maybe, but that isn’t it,” Stiles frowns.  
“What then?” Scott is perplexed, “is it because he slept with me?” Scott forehead crinkles in confusion as Stiles’ eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. At Stiles’ expression Scott hastily adds, “And that is just sleeping, nothing else.”  
 _And by that he means Derek sleeping in his bed with him while they were both naked, but absolutely nothing happening; because absolutely nothing happened, apart from licking and nuzzling and cuddling; and it was purely a wolf thing. But he is still not mentioning any of that to Stiles_.

Their conversation is cut short by the sudden crashing from the ceiling; the electric lights sparking, glass shattering as the Kanima jumps across the top of the book shelves.  
Scott rushes over to find Matt on the ground, the back of his neck bleeding from the scratch. He turns quickly, partially shifted, at the sound of Erica as she falls to the ground.  
He sprints towards Jackson who is half transformed into the Kanima only to be thrown back across the room by him. Scott crouches down at the end of one of the aisle of shelves still standing, Stiles and Danny behind him. They watch as the Kanima picks up the chalk and, head turned to face them writes on the board ‘STAY OUT OF MY WAY OR I’LL KILL ALL OF YOU’.  
The Kanima drops the chalk and runs, leaping through a window.

Erica is having a seizure, brought on by the Kanima venom; Stiles and Scott gather her up to take her to Derek. Danny is calling an ambulance for Matt.  
As Scott lifts Erica into his arms Danny looks to him and pleads, “Don’t give up on him; I know you can save him.”  
“I’ll never give up on him.”

\--

Stiles was shocked when Derek broke Erica’s arm to start the healing process and hopefully stop the seizure. He was more shocked when Erica said he made a pretty good Batman as she lay in his arms, her head cradled in his lap. Scott had left after talking with Derek; they were no closer to knowing who was controlling Jackson, and Scott was worried; Derek reassured him that he would keep to his word and they would save Jackson _if they could_. Stiles wondered if that was why Scott was working with Argent against Derek, because he didn’t trust Derek to keep Jackson alive; _but neither would Argent_.

And Stiles was positively stunned, because being further shocked would be ridiculous, at the response when he told Derek about Scott’s talk with Argent.  
“I know,” at Derek’s words Stiles brain seemed to short out; how does Derek know? “Scott told me this morning,” _OMG my Dom, my Mate, can read minds or did I say that out loud_ , “and we agreed a course of action.” _What course of action?_ Stiles looks at Derek expectantly, Derek stares back.  
“You need to use your words Stiles,” Derek finally says, “I’m not a mind reader.”  
“So, Scott tells you that he’s working with Argent and you agree what course of action exactly?” Stiles knows his tone is far from submissive, but he doesn’t like being kept in the dark; and this seems like important stuff.  
“Scott isn’t working with Argent,” Derek starts, he then notices the sudden change in Stiles’ posture and the air of guilt, “and you’ll tell me what you’ve done to be guilty about. Argent threatened him as he had done with Danny, and we agreed that Scott would pretend to work with him working for the pack.” Derek fixes Stiles with a determined stare until he confesses.  
“I may have punched Scott when I thought he was working with Argent to get Allison back and was back-stabbing you and dumping Jackson as his sub and was going to force Allison to submit to him even though she’s a Dom.”  
“Well, if he fooled you, hopefully he fooled Argent too.”

\--

She has to wake up; she’s dreaming; she knows she has to be dreaming because this cannot be real. The boy she had talked to in the corridor, who gave her the flower, who was here with her in this house that changed around her from the beautiful old mansion into this burnt and crumbling wreckage, as he then turned around to face her and became the burned old man telling her she was his backup plan, that he knew her immunity would mean she could do one very important thing as he leans in close, so close she can feel his breath on her cheek, which is silly because he isn’t really there, this is a dream, a nightmare, as he says, “Do you know what that is Lydia?”  
 ** _Stupid question; of course she knows._**


	18. Incontrollable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small update/changes from last nights posting.
> 
> As with every chapter this has not been proof-read / beta'd. All mistakes are my own.

Scott paced around the room before collapsing back on his bed, only to rise and pace the room some more. He was so on edge; the slightest reason, real or imagined, causing his temper to erupt. The only person able to get through to him, to calm him and reason with him when he lost it, was Derek; and that was beginning to make things worse, how much he was relying on Derek. Scott couldn’t rationalise how when Derek grabbed him in a bear hug and held him to his chest he would cling to him, inhaling his scent, like a needy sub; **_he was a Dominant for fucks sake_**.

Instinctually he feels that it’s just because Derek is his Alpha, his wolf needing the comfort of his pack; but he doesn’t feel that close to Erica, Boyd or Isaac. Their scent doesn’t calm him the way Derek’s does, or even Stiles’ as so much of Derek is infused into Stiles’ own scent now.  
But, when he thinks on it he can’t accept that he needs the other Dominant to ground him; that’s what a Dominant does for their submissive.

And this is his room, with his scent. It should calm his restless wolf, but it doesn’t smell like pack; and none of them where here to help, so he was pacing; walking around in circle with the need to… strike out, hit, punch, something violent. His wolf is unruly and wild with the need to be with his Mate. And that strikes at Scott from both sides of his being. His Mate is in trouble and needs his comfort, and his submissive is in trouble and needs his protection; and he can’t comfort or protect Jackson. He avoids him and won’t take his calls or answer his texts. They are still no closer to knowing who the Kanima’s Master is; but whoever is controlling Jackson, Scott is going to make them pay.

He’d followed Jackson to the warehouse where the underground show was taking place. He saw him barely interact with anyone, not speak to anyone. Matt acquiesced to Jackson, letting him jump ahead of him in the queue. This didn’t make sense to him. Jackson was more submissive than Matt, yet Matt acted as if the complete opposite was true. Something was wrong; and Scott couldn’t focus, couldn’t concentrate his thoughts, on what it was.

But Scott had to leave for work; Derek was going to show up there too, they were going to ask Deaton if he could help them with Jackson.

\--

Allison followed her mother into the morgue. She was a little confused, normally these lessons one what it is, or how, to be a hunter were conducted by her father. This was the first time her mother had been involved. She stalks around the bodies of the couple; Shaun, the husband, killed by the Kanima, by Jackson, and Jessica, the wife, killed by the Kanima’s Master mere hours after giving birth to their child.  
Her mom talks as if she’s telling Allison about this, but then Allison suddenly gets it; gets why it’s her mother and not her father, this isn’t lesson, this is an interrogation.  
“It’s about knowledge Allison; what we know makes us responsible,” her voice and stance assertive, barely holding back her dominance, “responsible for protecting those that cannot defend themselves,” she walks to the side of the table Jessica is lain out on, “I saw the tapes of the library, your friend Stiles was in there, as was Scott,” the venom dripping from her at the mention of Scott’s name is not concealed, “ Do you really think I believe that a high school fight explains that amount of damage?” She looks at Allison, the expression of a concerned and understanding mother, “I know you’re trying to protect your friends, **_but people are dying_** , a child was orphaned, what you know makes you responsible Allison,” she pulls away the sheet covering Jessica’s naked body, pointing to her, letting her dominance flow with her words, “ ** _It makes you responsible for this_**.”

The turmoil is written on Allison’s face; she is torn between protecting Jackson for Scott and the need to tell her mother everything she knows. She turns her head looking at her mom, “What do you want me to tell you.”

\--

As soon as Scott opens the door of the Animal Clinic and Derek’s scent hits him he’s using all his will power not bury his nose in the crook of Derek’s neck. He pulls himself back, steps out of his way and lets Derek and Isaac enter.

Isaac’s submissiveness is setting Scott on even more on edge; and that worries him. His eyes follow Isaac’s every move; the submissive stance; the downcast eyes flicking from the ground to the Dominants in the room, none of them being Danny the Dom whose collar Isaac is wearing. It stirs a need in Scott; a longing and a desire that Isaac could fulfil. _He remembers the feel of Isaac’s breath on his neck, curling his finger in the D-ring of Isaac’s collar and pulling his head back; and he thinks how easy it would be, how pliant and obedient Isaac could be, to pull downwards, to have Isaac on his knees_. And Scott knows he shouldn’t let himself feel like that about Isaac; Isaac isn’t his, Jackson is. It is Jackson he wants, needs, on his knees before him.  
“What’s he doing here?” Scott didn’t realise he was talking until he heard his voice, the hard edge of aggression creasing a frown over Isaac’s brow.  
“I need him,” Derek casually answers, “where’s the vet is he going to help us?”  
“That depends,” Deaton is leaning against the doorframe leading into the back of the clinic, “your friend Jackson, do you plan to save him, or to kill him?”  
“Save him,” Scott immediately replies, “If we can,” Derek adds.  
Scott turns to face Derek, “We are going to save him,” the full measure of his assertiveness weighing on every word. Isaac whimpers at the need to submit pulled forth by Scott’s dominance; Derek shifts, his eyes red, claws and fangs extended.  
“ **Don’t. Ever. Use. That. Voice. On. Me. Again.** ” Derek snarls at Scott.  
“We are going to save him,” Scott repeats, his voice normal, but his determination unwavering.

In the back of the clinic they discuss ways to capture the Kanima. Derek explains how he almost took the head off the Kanima when fighting it and Chris Argent emptied his gun into it and it still got back up and fought. It’s only weakness seemingly that it can’t swim; but Scott points out that Jackson is captain of the swim team.  
Deaton explains that it seems they are trying to deal with two people; a puppet (the Kanima) and the puppeteer (the Master).  
“The Kanima killed the husband while the Master had to take care of the wife,” Deaton states, asking, “Do we know why?”  
“I don’t think Jackson could do it,” Scott remembers the conversation he listened in to between Stiles and Erica, pausing before continuing to explain, “his mother died pregnant too, possibly murdered, I don’t think he could do that to someone else.”  
“Not necessarily,” Isaac intercedes, “how do we know it isn’t just part of the rules. The Kanima kills murderers, but if Jackson kills the mother the baby dies too.”  
“Does that mean your father was a murder?” Scott asks, ignoring the sudden urge to comfort.  
“Wouldn’t surprise me if he was,” Isaac replies impassively.

“Ah!” Deaton exclaims, “what if the fear of water wasn’t from the Kamina, but from the Master controlling him? What if whatever affects the Kanima also affects the person controlling him?”  
“Meaning what?” Isaac asks.  
“Meaning we can catch them,” Scott states, the dawning of hope appearing to him, “ _Both of them._ ”

\--

Allison was waiting for Scott when he walked into the chemistry lab; he could see the tension and worry etched on her features.  
“Hey,” his cheerful greeting shifting into concern, “what’s wrong?” He takes her hands in his, soothing and comforting her as if she was pack.  
“They know; I told my mom, I had to; and now they know, about Jackson being the Kanima; everything,” he could see the tears threatening at her eyes.  
“It will be okay,” biting at his lower lip, “we’ll figure something out; maybe if they get a lead on something it could help, as long as we can help him; as long as we save him, it’s all good.” Scott hoped he sounded confident, Allison needed to believe that; he had concerns and doubts about what would happen to Jackson if the hunters got to him, but there was no need for Allison to know that. He needed to convince her that this was no big deal; he needed to change the subject.  
“I hear you’ve been seeing a sub,” Scott tried for light and casual, “thinking of making a claim on him?”  
The reaction was not what Scott expected; Allison began sobbing uncontrollably. He wrapped his arms around her in comfort and consolation; he has done the exact opposite of his intention, and doesn’t know why his words have upset her.

Slowly Allison explains through her tears. The submissive, Jedidiah Koch, was from a hunter family; a family that admired her Aunt Kate. She told Scott how Jed’s family had contacted her father; how Jed was coming to Beacon Hills to study, some of his family, his older sister maybe others, were coming too; at least until he was collared or claimed. Jed’s older sister is here with him now, to see if any suitable Dominant wants to make a claim. Allison’s family had wanted her to find out why they were coming, how many of them were coming. She’s confused about whether any of D/s relationship talks between her and Jed are real or if she is just a pawn being sacrificed by her family.  
“Don’t let anyone use you Allison,” Scott finds himself saying, “and this sub, Jedidiah, do you want to claim him?” He can see Allison think about it, see the twinkle in her eye that he knows means yes.  
“He is cute, very submissive,” her mouth curls up into a girly smile that Scott associates on Allison with her having less than pure thoughts, “I think I could have fun with him.”  
“Then claim him, make him your submissive.”  
“You think I could, he’s older than me; what if he’s just a pawn for his family too? I’m sure he’s hiding something.”  
“Allison, I _know_ you can do it,” Scott asserts, “You’re a _Dominant_ , he’s a _submissive_ ; if you _want_ him, _make_ him yours.”  
Allison smiles, a genuine smile, “Thanks Scott,” she leans in and kisses his cheek, “if I find out anything that will help you with Jackson I’ll let you know.”  
She turns and leaves. Scott picks up his backpack and heads to the door, unaware of the eyes watching him.

Victoria Argent was not about to let that mongrel worm his way back into Allison’s life. She’d overheard his conversation with Gerard, and clearly he was already making a move. She knew very well that what Gerard and Scott had said was true, a Dominant could force another Dominant to submit to them where one of them was significantly less dominant than the other.  
She was not about to let a rabid dog do that to her daughter; no matter what it did to Gerard’s plans.

\--

Allison is sitting on the stairs in the Argents’ basement; Jed is sitting on a step below her, her fingers are combing through his hair as he rests his head on her shoulder. Jed’s elder sister, Rebeccah, is in the basement standing not far from Allison’s grandfather; scattered around are at least half-a-dozen hunters. Her father is going over the plan to ‘capture’ Jackson one last time.  
Allison notices the gleam in Rebeccah’s eyes; the way that Jed has clung closely to her and avoided his sister’s gaze all evening. And, she can’t help but think back to the first time her grandfather met Becca, earlier this evening, and commented on how he remembers Kate talking about her, and over the course of the evening he had said how much she reminds him of Kate.

Abruptly, Allison stands, “Dad, we’ve gone over this,” there’s sharpness to her tone, something familial, “I look for Jackson, once I find him and he’s in a location where you can capture him without any civilian casualties I signal you; and we are capturing him alive,” that’s when she recognises the tone, she sounds like her mother did back at the morgue, “aren’t we.” The ‘ _aren’t we_ ’ was not a question.  
“Are you sure that’s what you want sweetie?” Gerard asks her; she knows it’s supposed to make her doubt herself and acquiesce to his decision, the way he said it so similar to how she had just spoken.  
“Yes, I am sure; we have a code don’t we. Jackson hasn’t killed anyone; the Kanima has; but to blame the Kanima would be like blaming a gun for the bullet that just shot you. It’s the person controlling the weapon that’s the murderer.” She looks Gerard in the eye, _she will not waiver; she’s a Dominant, Scott told her not to let anyone use her; he believes in her, and she will not bow_ , “Mom said we are responsible for protecting those that cannot protect themselves; well Jackson can’t protect himself, he’s being used against his will, so it’s up to us to help him. We capture Jackson alive, and find out how to cure him.”  
She turns and walks up the stairs, snapping her fingers, “Come Jed.” Jed scampers after her.

\--

Stiles pulls up outside the building and parks. He’s been silent most of the trip, the tension between Scott and himself amplified by Scott’s constant tapping of his foot, or drumming of his fingers. The whole vibe rolling of the Dominant thick in the air, and in the confined space of the jeep Stiles is finding it difficult to ignore. He jumps from jeep, practically running to the back of the vehicle to grab the bags of mountain ash.  
“You okay?” Scott suddenly asks him.  
“Me? Yeah, I’m fine,” Stiles mumbles as he picks up the bags. _Desperately thinking, Leia, Leia, Leia; and Derek would punishment spank me again for the so wrong thoughts; when did Scott become like Super Dom and start giving off Super Dominant pheromones that make submissives go all light headed with a need to kneel and submit and not think clearly; and I was trying to work up to apologies for punching him after hearing him and Gerard…_  
“I’m not a super Dom,” and at Scott’s voice Stiles realises he was talking out loud, “I mean some other Dominant has control of my submissive, my Mate; so, I mean, I must be really bad as a Dom don’t you think?” Scott’s not sure why he’s suddenly letting out his insecurity; except it is Stiles, and he and Stiles always told each other everything; even if it was too much information. “And since the Kanima turned out to be Jackson,” Scott pauses, swallowing, “I guess I’ve found it more difficult to control my instincts, if that means I’m giving off more of a Dom vibe and making things hard for you,” Stiles eyes widen and with a realisation Scott’s eyes widen too, “ **no** , _I mean not hard_ , **tough** , making things **tough** for you, then I’m sorry.”  
“I’m sorry too, for punching you,” Stiles looks at his sneakers, scuffing the ground with his toe.  
“We cool?” Scott asks, trying to sound causal; the furrow of his brow giving away his concern if Stiles had been looking at him.  
“We’re cool, wanna grab the other bag?”  
“I can’t; remember Deaton said you had to do it alone.” Scott heads off into the club, leaving Stiles staring after him as he holds the bags of mountain ash.  
“This plan officially sucks,” Stiles complains throwing the black plastic bag to the ground.

\--

As Scott walks the perimeter of the dance area he knows that Boyd and Derek are outside the building, and Stiles is laying the circle of mountain ash. He sees Isaac and Erica; he likes the way the lights reflect off the metal studs in Isaac’s collar, the way the strip of leather draws attention to his neck. He catches the low growl emanating from him, reminds himself why they are here; to get his submissive back, to get his Mate back. Danny wasn’t eager to allow Isaac to be part of the plan without him, but Isaac had finally gotten him to agree that as a human he’d be more at risk from the Kanima than Isaac would, and that Isaac would be too distracted trying to keep his Dom safe if he was there.  
What Scott didn’t expect to see was Allison dancing _with another werewolf_.

Allison noticed him and started heading in his direction; her hand firmly holding Jed’s pulling him with her. Scott sees him look in his direction, sniff the air, and his blue eyes blown wide in fear. Scott’s first thought is _why is he afraid of me_? Closely followed by _Allison doesn’t know what he is_.  
“Allison, what are you doing here?” Scott’s eyes never leave the wolf who is staring at the ground; Scott can taste the fear coming from him, he can hear the panic in his heartbeat.  
“Scott, didn’t you check your text messages?” Allison pointedly asks, “I told you we were coming here, that I was bringing Jed.”  
Scott head snaps to look at Allison, “This is Jed, the submissive _your family_ arranged for you to meet?”

Since Allison brought them over to this other werewolf Jed has been fighting the need to bare his throat to him in submission; he hears the inflection in the way Scott says _your family_ , clearly he knows the Argents’ are hunters and probably that his family are as well, _does Allison know what Scott is? Will he tell her that he is?_

Allison notices the interaction between Scott and Jed; she is sure it is more than Jed’s reaction to a Dominant as strong as Scott; _does Jed know that Scott is the Scott McCall so strongly matched to him by the Centre? Then something in the way Scott sniffs the air, the way he asks about Jed being the submissive her family arranged for her to meet; Jed had said that he was in the area about the time of all the murders, when the rogue Alpha bit Scott, killed her Aunt Kate, did he bite Jed too, was Jed hiding that he was a werewolf? How was he keeping that from his family?_ She knows he is hiding something.  
“Scott, can we talk in private,” Allison asks before turning to Jed, “Wait here.”

Allison directs them near some of the speakers, hoping that it will mask their conversation even from a werewolf’s hearing. She makes sure that she is not facing Jed as she speaks.  
“He’s a werewolf isn’t he?” the shocked look from Scott is all the answer she needs, “never mind…”  
“Allison…”  
“Scott, I’ve got my answer; it doesn’t matter,” Allison cuts him off, “there are more pressing problems, my dad and Gerard are on their way here; that’s what my text was about, if you’d bother to read it; Jed’s sister is with them, she was a friend of my Aunt Kate. Dad told me they plan to capture Jackson, try and help him; but I don’t trust that their telling me the truth.”  
“What, but we had a plan, the pack and me; dammit.” Scott feels the whole plan slipping away; he has to come up with something to stop the Argent’s ruining everything.  
“Tell me what you want me to do?” Allison looks to him, wanting to help.  
“Just, keep Omega Boy out of the way, where he can’t add to the problems; I don’t trust him.” Scott rushes off to before waiting for a reply.  
Allison turns towards Jed; she can see that Matt is staring at him intently; _the creep, how often does she need to say no for him to take the hint_. There is just something about him that she doesn’t like.

\--

Scott is explaining to him how to inject the ketamine into Jackson. After he’s explained each part, pulling back on the plunger, squeezing on the trigger, he looks into Isaac’s eyes to see that he has understood. Scott is telling him that it has to be given intravenously, that it means into a vein; that the easiest would be in the neck. Isaac feels his body flush as Scott’s fingers brush over his neck just above his collar to indicate where to aim for. His eyes flutter as he tries to steel himself against the feelings rising in him; the want to submit, to kneel before Scott and let himself be used by him.  
“Why… why me?” he asks  
“Because I’ve got to go and try to make sure Argents don’t mess the plan up any more than they have,” Scott assertiveness as he looks directly into his eyes does nothing to quell the feelings stirring in Isaac, “and Isaac, be careful.”  
“Well, I doubt I’ll even slightly hurt him,” he tries to laugh, to cover the pain he felt at Scott’s worry for Jackson.  
“No, I mean you,” Scott stares right into him as he speaks, “I don’t want you to get hurt.” Scott drops his gaze, turns around and walks away. Isaac could hear the truth in what he said, his heartbeat was loud and clear; it’s not just Jackson he doesn’t hurt, he doesn’t want Isaac to get hurt either. Scott has to have sensed the effect he had on him; how much he needed to accede to Scott’s desires. The sudden pangs of guilt that Isaac feels, _he’s Danny’s sub_ ; he banishes the traitorous thoughts and turns his attention to the plan; to capturing Jackson, and trapping the Kanima’s Master.

\--

Erica slides her hand over Jackson’s back, curling in along his right side to lick and kiss his neck as Isaac mirrors her move on Jackson’s left; the thought’s in Isaac’s head, _this is who Scott wants to dominate, this is the smooth skin he wants to lick and taste_.  
As Erica distracts Jackson, pulling him into a kiss, Isaac extracts the syringe from his back pocket; he’s about to inject the ketamine into Jackson’s neck when he lets go at the sudden burst of pain from the Kanima’s claws piercing his abdomen, Jackson’s detached voice saying ‘ _He’s mine_ ’. The syringe is kicked away from them under other people’s feet as he an Erica collapse to the ground.

Isaac doesn’t want to let Scott down; he fights against the effects of the toxin; finding the ketamine he grabs the syringe and launches himself onto Jackson’s back, striking the needle through the skin, pulling the trigger and releasing the ketamine into the vein.  
“ ** _Jackson is Scott’s_** ,” Isaac’s tone as venomous as the toxin from the Kanima’s claws as Jackson collapses in his arms.

\--

Scott is walking down the ramp, his thoughts on Isaac and his own reaction to him. He knows that Isaac and he are not compatible, Isaac is not a masochist; _even if Isaac was a masochist, he is Danny’s sub, why wasn’t that his first thought_? He knows how he feels over someone else controlling Jackson, _through the Kanima, it’s the Kanima that is submitting to someone else not Jackson; he tells himself this constantly, it helps him deal with it. A little_.  
Suddenly he is blinded by the bright lights of a car and feeling the impact as he is thrown back as the car hits him and he lands on the tarmac, head thudding back against the ground.

As Scott wakens, he vision blurry, he hears the sound of Mrs Argent; Allison’s mom.  
“This type of wolfsbane is one of my favourites; a lovely smell,” she’s inhaling deeply from a small plastic vial, “you probably won’t think so.”  
She places the vial in the vaporiser; the atomised wolfsbane begins dispersing into the room.  
“What are you doing?” Scott’s groggy and disoriented; this isn’t making sense to him, why is she trying to kill him? Do the Argents know that he isn’t really working for Gerard?  
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m killing you.” Her voice is cold, brittle and full of purpose. “It’s going to look like an asthma attack; your school records show you have a pretty severe case of asthma.”  
Scott has partially shifted, his eyes have bled to gold, his fangs and claws extended, “Stop!”  
“Too late, looks like it is already working.” As Scott moves to raise himself off the bench she kicks him over onto the ground, “Do you really think I would let Gerard barter my daughter away? Did you think I would allow you to dominate my daughter? Let you force her to submit to you?” Her voice dripping with more malice with every sentence, “Alpha, beta, but what are you Scott? An omega; _a pitiful lone wolf_. Have you ever heard the excuse for a howl from a lone wolf? It’s miserable and pathetic.”  
“ _I’m not alone_ ,” Scott’s voice is weak and broken; but his roar reverberates through the night.

As Scott lies there, knowing he is dying, his thoughts resting on Jackson and how he failed him; as his Dominant he should have protected him, he should have saved him. But he wasn’t good enough, and Jackson deserved better.

\--

Scott doesn’t see Derek fight with Victoria Argent; does see him overcome with the wolfsbane slam her against the wall and bite deeply into her shoulder. He doesn’t know that Derek carries him out of the room and takes him to Deaton’s clinic.

Scott doesn’t know that Victoria Argent staggered to her husband and collapsed into his arms; or that Chris Argent wept seeing the bite on an Alpha in the shoulder of his wife; his Dominant.

\--

Allison and Jed come running out from the building where the rave was taking place, the building where the Kanima had taken the life of another victim. As Allison ran down the stairs her grandfather, Gerard, grabbed her arm.  
“It didn’t work; none of it worked,” Allison shouts.  
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” is Gerard’s cryptic response, “in fact I would say the prognosis isn’t nearly as dire as things look.”

\--

Stiles slumps back on his bed. He did magic, he thinks, well he made the mountain ash circle, even though he had only a handful of the stuff left and fifty feet to cover, and it worked; ‘ _Imagination is more important than Knowledge_ ’. Not that anyone gave him any praise for it, not even his Dom; his Mate. His Dom who’s first words to him were to break it, and yes, okay, so it was to go off and save Scott’s life; again. His Mate, who again is with Scott instead of here with him; because again the world revolves around Scott; when he was with Allison, it was all about Scott and Allison. **_Now_** , now it is all about Scott and Jackson; _and yes, okay_ , Jackson is the Kanima and Jackson is Scott’s Mate and submissive; but still. Stiles has needs; his needs are to see to his Dominant’s needs, but he can’t. His Dominant, his Mate, who should be here, but he is with Scott; leaving Stiles to see to his own needs.  
Only he can’t because his Dom forbids him to. Stiles thinks, ‘ _my life sucks, and not in a good way_ ’.


	19. Submissions and Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with everything I post this has not been proof-read / beta'd; all mistakes are mine.

Stiles was naked; a thin sheen of sweat coated his body. He was on his knees in the centre of the bed, ass high in the air; his forehead touching the mattress. His arms were stretched out to the corners of the bed, tied off with ropes. He pulled against the ropes looped into the D-rings of the leather cuffs around his wrists as he strained back, trying to push the little bit further; but no matter how hard he tried Derek held back and wouldn’t let his knot slip in and tie them together.  
Stiles moaned in frustration around the ball-gag filling his mouth; if he could look down the length of his body he would see his cock, hard, swollen and dripping as it bounced around in the air ignored and untouched; but he couldn’t. He couldn’t see, hear or see anything for the heavy leather hood pulled tight over his head, laced tightly at that back, covering his eyes and ears; blocking his sight and hearing. All he could do was **_feel_** ; _feel Derek’s hands on him, feel Derek’s cock in him; just not enough_ , not enough to push him over.  
He wanted to come, his Dom had been playing with him for hours and every time Stiles was close Derek stopped; keeping Stiles on the edge. Stiles is not allowed to come; not until Derek tells him to.  
He’d been spanked; a long slow gentle slapping that built to rapid hard stinging leaving his ass hot and red and his cock hard, swollen and dripping.  
Derek had played with his nipples, licking, nipping, twisting and biting them; leaving them tender, puffy and sensitive, even when he merely blew air over them; eliciting moans from Stiles.  
Derek had raked his claws over Stiles’ stomach, ass, and back; enough for Stiles to feel it, for marks to be left, but not enough to break the skin.  
Through it all Stiles had been laced into the leather hood and gagged.

There was a reason behind it; Derek had explained before they began; before he slide the leather hood over Stiles’ head and pulled the lacing tight, covering his eyes and ears, before he placed the rubber ball-gag in Stiles’ mouth, leaving Stiles sightless, soundless and without the ability to speak. Whatever it was Stiles couldn’t recall now, he had very little thought left in his head; other than wanting his Dom, his Mate, _to push forward just that little bit more, with just that little bit more force_ , and fill him with his knot. 

It’s when Stiles stops trying, when he stills and just accepts what Derek is doing with his body; it is then that Derek pushes that bit harder, that bit further and his knot slips into Stiles’ slicked hole. Derek leans down over Stiles’ back and nips at his neck and shoulders as Stiles’ cries are stifled by the gag, his seed pooling in the blankets beneath him as his load releases as Derek’s knot pushes on his prostate. 

Derek unfastens the cuffs from Stiles’ wrists, and the gag from his mouth. He pulls them over on their sides, spooning behind Stiles; their bodies tied together with his cock locked inside Stiles’ ass. Derek unlaces the hood and pulls it off Stiles’ sweat coated head.  
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Stiles immediately apologies, “I tried to hold on until you said…”  
“Stiles,” Derek silences him, “you did wait; you didn’t come until I told you.” He covers the side of Stiles’ face and neck with soft, fleeting, kisses, “I’m proud of you. Now rest.” 

Derek is still locked in Stiles’ ass; he can tell from his subs heart rate that he has fallen asleep. Pressing himself closer against his back he runs a hand over the short cropped hair on Stiles’ head, burying his nose against his Mate’s neck and inhaling the scent. It calms his wolf, the scent of his Mate so clearly claimed; but it does not calm the turmoil in the man. 

Earlier he and Stiles had talked at length. Stiles had finally _expressed his concerns_ about their relationship; which meant that he had raged, shouted and beat his fists on Derek’s chest. Derek couldn’t help but smirk at the memory; at least Stiles had waited until they were alone.  
Stiles’ worries were that they weren’t spending enough quality time, okay Stiles had said sexy times, together. Derek already knew this; he sensed his sub’s, his Mate’s, frustration, in his scent, in his heartbeat.  
It was Derek’s fault. He knew had held back; for the same reason he had allowed another Dominant to claim Stiles in the first place, only to harangue himself and struggle to control the jealousy that raged within him at the scent of another on his Mate. He had wanted to protect Stiles and had failed; and now, in trying to slow the developing bond as Mates he’d hurt him again only to increase the risk to Stiles by giving in to his Mates desire, and his own instincts, and give Stiles and his wolf what they both wanted. What Derek still didn’t believe he deserved. 

Derek had been explaining that Scott’s bond to his Mate was weak; and that part of the reason for spending so much time comforting Scott was ensuring that it remained so, because as long as the their bond as Mates was not strengthened Scott could survive if Derek had to kill Jackson to stop the Kanima and his Master. And Derek was becoming increasingly certain that was going to be necessary. 

Stiles, of course, had thought that it also meant that their bond as Mates was not being strengthened; Derek knew otherwise, their bond was already unbreakable. It had been since Stiles shoved him back against the headboard their first time together. When Derek had said that werewolves mate for life it was true, if a bond is sealed between them. With a strong bond between two werewolves if one of the Mates dies the other will follow, simple allow themselves to fade; but until that bond is forged it is possible for the remaining wolf to survive. Derek intended to make sure Scott survived. 

For now he will hold and protect his Mate. 

\-- 

Allison led Jed into the private room she had rented for the evening at ‘The Block’. She had brought a few of her own toys from her small collection; toys she had fantasied using on Scott. Her family and Jed’s sister knew that they were coming here; to check their compatibility before Allison decided whether or not to register a claim on Jed. Allison could see Jed’s nervousness, she didn’t need werewolf hearing or sense of smell for that. Strange she thought, that a werewolf would be nervous of her; but then she is the daughter of a family of hunters, and he the son of another. 

She placed her bag on a chair to the side of the bed nearest the door before turning to Jed.  
“ ** _Strip_** ,” she commanded him, “and fold your clothes neatly, placing them on the other chair,” before walking back to the door and locking it. She had been specific about the room she hired; through the thick padded walls and door no sound seeped through from the rest of the club, and no sound escaped out.  
As she turned back to remove the toys from her bag and lay them out for easy access she could see that Jed was quickly complying with her order.  
“When you’re naked stand at the foot of the bed, facing the mirror on the far wall, with your hands clasped behind your head,” she doesn’t even look at him as continues. 

“When you return to your hotel room tomorrow your sister will expect there to be marks on your body from my use of you won’t she?” it isn’t really a question; Jed has already said how his family still follow some of the older customs, so it’s a given that as Jed is a masochist she will inspect and question him to see that his needs have been met. Thankfully that is not the sort of detailed questioning she can expect from her own family; they will be more interested in what additional information on the plans of the Koch clan regarding Beacon Hills she has gathered. They, specifically her mother and grandfather, just don’t believe that it all about Jed getting a college education to become a car mechanic; he could get that at other colleges nearer where his family live. But her family, and she is sure Jed’s family, don’t know that he was bitten. For that reason Allison can understand Jed’s desire to get away from his family before they discover his secret; _but why would they accept his wish to move so far from them_? 

Her main concern right this moment is what Jed’s reaction will be when he finds out that she knows what he is. She turns to see him standing as instructed; looking at his own naked reflection in the mirror, his hands behind his head, the bed laid out behind him, and obvious sign that the arousal of submission is outweighing his nervousness as his half-hard length begins to firm. 

“You haven’t answered me?”  
“Miss?” he replies, his nervousness adding a hoarse, croakiness to his voice; _she had asked him something and already he wasn’t paying enough attention_.  
“I am correct in that your sister will be inspecting you and questioning you tomorrow; that she will expect to see you marked from my use this evening,” Allison restates, “Yes?”  
“Yes, Miss.” Jed’s eyes widen as he catches a hint of the scent hidden under Allison’s arousal, wolfsbane.  
“Just as well I brought my own, modified, toys,” Allison says watching his reaction, “otherwise we both know she wouldn’t have found any after you had healed away all the marks.”  
Jed panics, he bolts towards the door finding no handle to grasp he backs against the mirrored wall. 

“I’m not about to tell them, either your sister or my family.” Allison hasn’t moved; she stands looking at him, calmly speaking while holding the riding crop wrapped; the black leather speckled with blue where it has been impregnated with blue rocket; wolfsbane.  
She needs to calm Jed, and get him to trust her, “Jed, I’m going to assume that no-one in your family knows you’re a wolf; that somehow since you were bitten you’ve managed to hide that from them, yes?”  
Unable to give voice to his answer he nods his head in short jerky movements; his eyes never leaving the crop in her hands.  
“Being a wolf, any mark I put on you with normal toys are going to heal before anyone sees them,” Allison keeps her voice firm, calm, drawing his eyes up from the crop to her face, “they’ll either think that I can’t top you in the way you need, or given that both our families are hunters, what might they think? What could someone having no marks on them after a night spent with a sadist like me suggest to them Jed?”  
Jed’s eyes widen at the implications.  
“Neither of us want that to happen Jed,” Allison has stepped closer, slowly edging her way towards him, “I know I don’t, and I’m sure you don’t; but clearly neither of our families adhere as closely to the code as they should. I believe in the code Jed, I believe that just because you’re a werewolf does not mean that you are a threat that needs to be put down.”  
Allison is standing beside Jed now; carefully she places a hand on his cheek, “My mother says that what we know makes us responsible for protecting those that cannot defend themselves; and I agree with her.”  
She sees the sudden shocked and panicked look Jed has, “Unlike my mother, I think that extends to protecting innocent werewolves from rogue hunters like my Aunt Kate. Let me help protect you Jed; let me claim you and mark you; submit to me like you need.”  
She feels him yield under her touch; her hand sliding round to the back of his neck, pulling him towards her as her blunt human teeth bite into the flesh covering his collarbone. She hears him whimper and knows he is hers as his length hardens between them. 

Both naked they lay wrapped in each other’s arms; Allison lying on her back, with Jed curled against her side as she twists her fingers in his hair. Her look lingers across the expanse of his back to his butt; thinking back over the last few hours, recalling with pleasure her use of his body as she left her marks.  
Jed, standing at the foot of the bed; feet shoulder width apart, bending at the waist with his hands behind his head as it rests on the black satin sheets. She slipped the vampire gloves on and spanked his smooth bubble butt, watching as the red pin-pricks in his flesh healed and vanished until her hand struck again.  
Jed kneeling on the bed between her outstretched legs as she leans against the headboard, striking his upper back with the crop as he licks her mound, his tongue flicking over the her clitoris and breaching into her opening as he whimpers in need; her toes grasping his hardness and teasingly rubbing over his glans.  
He is on hands and knees on the bed; his eyes wide and unfocussed as he watches her in the mirror. She slips the toy into her slicked tunnel; teasing herself by sliding it back and forth over her clitoris before pushing it into her opening and fastening the harness. Taking the lubricant she bathes the other, larger, dildo attached to the outside of the harness until it is shining and slick with the silicone based fluid. She kneels behind him and pushes the head of the toy against his ring of muscle; Allison had already loosened him with smaller toys and plugs, leaning forward to pushes in. His hardened shaft leaking into the growing puddle beneath him as she fucks herself by fucking him until with a growing gasping scream she comes; collapsing on his welted back.  
Afterward she had watched him jack his lubricated shaft to his own orgasm as she flicked the clamps, coated in a wolfsbane resin, that were attached to his nipples with crop.  
The agony and ecstasy expressed on his face arousing her again. 

As she looks down along the welts and bruising she has left on his body she can’t help but smile, and think of how she wants to use him next. 

\-- 

Allison walks along the driveway towards Lydia’s house; something is troubling her and she’s not sure why. Her mother had wanted to talk earlier, but Allison was busy; she was going through outfits with Lydia for this party, she then had to arrange with Scott, via Stiles as her parents were still checking her phone, for him to take Jed to Derek so that he didn’t wolf out and his family, and her family, find out about him. She’s still not sure how he has hidden that he’s a werewolf all these months; _how can his family not have worked it out? How has he hidden himself from them every full moon?_

But just now what’s worrying her is her mother; the way she acted when she wanted to talk privately. Normally she would have been more insistent, more forceful with Allison to make the time to talk about whatever it was, but she didn’t… 

Allison is jostled from her thoughts as a couple clearly in the party mood rush past her, the female submissive being lead on a leash attached to her collar; all Allison can now think is _how is she not cold in nothing but those two strips of cloth and seven inch heels_? 

\-- 

Derek smells the omega before Scott has even lead him into ‘the lair’; he is outside the carriage scowling at the sight of Scott leading the hooded, bound and collared wolf by a short leash clipped onto the collar fastened to the full hood. The wolf’s eyes, ears and mouth covered; having to put his trust fully in Scott to keep him safe. Scott’s scent is heady; his enjoyment of the power he has over the older omega clear, just as the omega’s is at being in his control. 

“I’ve been running omegas out of town Scott, not putting them in bondage and taking them home,” Derek’s eyebrows rise questioningly.  
“This is the submissive hunter that the Argents arranged for Allison to meet,” Derek is confused by Scott’s statement; he sniffs the air, he knew he had picked up the scent of an unknown wolf not a human hunter, “It seems he was in Beacon Hills back when I was bitten by the rogue Alpha, and he was too. He’s been hiding it from his family,” Scott snickers a little cruelly.  
“I can’t imagine why?” Derek deadpans before looking at the wolf, “So what is he doing here?”  
“Allison would like us to keep her submissive safely chained-up this evening to protect his secret,” Scott looks between the bound submissive and his Alpha, “one of his sisters is in town with him, she was a friend of Kate’s.” Everyone hears the growl from Derek at the mention of her name; even the beta’s in the carriage. “Allison says that as he plans on studying at the local college his sister won’t be leaving town until he’s collared.” 

Jed falls to his knees; leaning back he exposes his stomach and turns his head, it would bear his neck to the alpha and Scott except for the hood and collar.  
Derek catches Scott lick his lips at the sight before he leans down to unfasten the gag from the hood, removing the small cock shaped hard rubber from the submissive’s mouth. Scott had barely removed it and the omega wolf was pleading with them.  
“Please, I’ll submit to you alpha; I’ll be part of your pack, I don’t want to be alone, I can’t do this alone anymore.” They can hear and smell the fear and panic coming from him.  
“You seem to have managed fine on your own so far,” Derek is watching the wolf carefully, listening to his heart, taking in his scent, “How have you kept your family from finding out?”  
“I don’t know, just lucky I guess; around the full moon they were mostly off separately with other hunters in the area. I’d head off to Shawnee State Forest; there are some abandon shacks and I chained myself up there. I guess that a part of me figured that I might get caught; that some local hunters might see a werewolf and kill it. I couldn’t do what my family expected anyone who got the bite to do.”  
“But?” Derek knows there is a ‘but’; Scott could sense it too. Derek sees it in his scowl; a scowl that the sub can’t see as they have left the blindfold on him.  
“But now I don’t want to die; I’m not that different from what I was before; just stronger, faster and I don’t get sick.” Jed pauses, licking his lips before starting more quietly, “I think they suspect, my family I mean, cause I haven’t even had a sniffle of a cold; that’s why I started looking for Dominants back here in Beacon Hills; I figured I could come back here, find the alpha that bit me and join their pack; they made me after all. Then we heard about Kate Argent and that the alpha had killed her and then been killed its… himself. _Please_ ,” Jed pleads with them, “I don’t want to die; I haven’t hurt anyone, _I know_ **_now_** _that what my family taught me about werewolves isn’t true_ ; if I had a pack to help me, to teach me what I need to know, how to control the shifting; I just want to live, to have a life.” 

At Derek’s nod Scott removes the hood and collar from Jed’s head and neck; they both heard his heartbeat and breathed in his scent, they can tell the truth of his words. Before he has time to adjust Derek grabs Jed’s hair and pulls his head back.  
“Do you accept me as your Alpha?” he growls down at him, at Jed’s quiet reply of ‘Yes’ he pushes back against Derek’s hand as he twists his head to the side barring more of his neck; and Derek’s fangs pierce the skin of his shoulder. 

Scott helps Derek chain the beta’s up before the moon fully rises. Scott chains Jed to one of the carriage seats while Isaac and Boyd hold Erica down while Derek screws some nasty looking head restraint to her. Derek then restrains Boyd while Scott straps down Isaac. 

He’s sitting astride Isaac’s legs as he wraps the chain around Isaac’s arm and the back of the seat.  
“How come you have enough control that you do not need to be chained up?” Isaac’s breath is hot against Scott’s cheek.  
“I have an anchor, something that grounds me and gives me control,” Scott leans against Isaac as he moves to wrap the chain around his other arm, “when you find your anchor you’ll start to build control too.” Scott slid down off Isaac’s lap and settled himself between Isaac’s legs as he looped the chains around them restraining each one to the opposite side of the seat.  
Isaac looked down at the Dom kneeling between his legs; he knew his eyes were shifted, glowing golden in the dim light; his throat felt tight and dry, and he knew there was no way that Scott could not smell his arousal, especially given where he was; just as much as Isaac knew of Scott’s own reaction. A part of it was due to the full moon; _a part of it_. 

Scott made a hasty retreat from the train carriage after securing Isaac. He stopped to talk to Derek, out of hearing range of the wolves secured in the carriage, before heading to Lydia’s party to watch over Stiles while Derek was watching over his betas. He wasn’t sure how Derek was going to react to what he wanted to say, and it made him feel uneasy; but then a lot of how he reacted around Derek made him uneasy.  
“Are you sure it was a good idea bringing the hunter into the pack?” Scott just leapt right in, “won’t that just make us more of a target for the hunters?”  
“You think that I should have left him as an omega?” Derek looked Scott in the eye, “You know what the Argents did to the other omega that I didn’t get to before them.”  
“But if his family are already suspicious won’t this make things more difficult for him and us?”  
“He needs us to help him learn control, to train him so that he is less of a threat; to make things easier for him so that they are less suspicious,” Derek keeps Scott’s gaze, “given his reaction to you I think you may be the better teacher for him.” At Scott’s blush Derek smirks, “for Isaac too possibly; if Danny doesn’t mind.”  
“I… I… I better go t… to Lydia’s,” Scott stutters, “Before I’m late for the party,” he finishes, making a quick departure. 

\-- 

When Scott arrived at Lydia’s he was met by an anxious Allison wanting to know that her sub was okay. Scott reassured her that Jed was safely chained up with the other betas in Derek’s pack; he also lets her know that Jed had asked to join Derek’s pack, and that Derek had allowed it.  
Allison remembered the night that they had realised that the Kanima was Jackson and Scott’s reaction; how Derek had had to fight him, force him to submit to him as the Alpha.  
“What does that mean,” Allison looks quizzically at Scott, “ _Derek allowed it_?”  
“Jed submitted to Derek as his Alpha and Derek accepted by biting him,” Scott’s voice quietens as he says, “Like he did with me, _when I submitted to him_.”  
“Oh.” Allison had never really thought about how Scott would feel submitting to someone; _she assumes that this isn’t the same as submissive submitting to a Dominant, well not exactly like it; Scott would have a serious problem accepting it if it was, and she doesn’t want to think of Jed submitting to anyone like that except her_. 

Their talk is quickly interrupted by an excited Stiles, who hurriedly explains in a tumble of words that he and his father have worked out that the Master of the Kanima has a grudge against the school swim team from two thousand and six; all of the victims so far were either on that swim team or, in the case of Isaac’s father, the coach of the swim team.  
Their speculation on who could have a motive to kill the swim team is cut short as Scott notices Jackson on the other side of the pool being handed a glass of the pink coloured punch drink by Lydia, just as someone shouts ‘Allison’ and she turns to see Matt waving to get her attention. 


	20. Our Fears and Other Peoples’ Fury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always all mistakes are mine and no-one has beta/proof read this.

Scott’s eyes ever left Jackson; they followed his every move until he disappeared inside the house. Never once acknowledging Scott’s presence; never once looking in his direction. Jackson seemed lost; he was not his usual confident self; he looked uncomfortable in his own skin, sad and fearful of those around him; of himself. Scott desperately wanted to wrap his arms around him and hold him close; to make everything safe for him, but he couldn’t.  
Jackson was still refusing to answer any calls or texts from Scott, and was still avoiding him at school. This evening every time Scott has started in his direction Jackson had moved away; it was like he was using some kind of sixth sense, because Scott never saw him look in his direction, and Scott was watching him; constantly.  
Another glass of the pink drink appeared in Scott’s hand and he gulped it down as Jackson walked into the house. Scott wasn’t giving up, he followed his Mate inside.

\--

“You’ve got two minutes,” Allison says walking into one of the rooms upstairs, as Matt follows her in he turns to shut the door.  
“Leave the door open,” Allison commands. Matt looks sheepish as he re-opens the door, pushing it back against the wall.  
“I know that I sometimes come on a little strong, and maybe you don’t think that’s a good thing in a submissive, but really, don’t you think that a Dominant like you deserves better than that needy Koch sub your parents...”  
“Matt,” Allison interrupts his rambling; she really didn’t need, or want, Matt telling her what he thought she needed.  
“Please, just give me a chance; I know he’s too submissive and needy for someone like you; I would be much better submissive to meet the needs of Dominant like you…” Allison held a hand up in front of Matt, clearly signalling for him to stop; he didn’t, “you’re beautiful, witty and charming, you…”  
“ ** _Shut the fuck up!_** ” Allison had had enough, “Jed sees to _my needs_ just fine; and I am perfectly capable of meeting Jed’s _submissive and masochist_ needs just fine,” her eyes are wild with her anger at Matt’s sheer presumption, “I do not need to consider any other submissive; even if I was to consider another submissive it would not be you, you are not a masochist and could never meet my needs. I claimed Jed and he accepted my claim.”

“But he’s not right for you; don’t you see that? He…” Allison zones out of whatever else Matt is spouting. Through the open door she could have sworn she had just seen Jed walking by, followed by a hooded figure carrying a crossbow. _How? Scott had told her that Jed was safe, restrained at Derek’s with the other betas. How is he here? Who has found out and is following him?_  
“No, not here,” she whispers under her breath thinking to herself ‘ _not anywhere_ ’. As she rushes past Matt he grabs her arm.  
“ ** _Wait…_** ” his sentence abruptly cut short as Allison flips him onto the floor on his back; she looks down at him.  
“Matt, you need to accept that I am not interested in taking you as my submissive.” She turns and leaves the room to find Jed, _and the mystery hunter tracking him_.

As he picks himself up off the floor Matt watches her weave her way through the crowd. He knows this isn’t the end of it; he knows there is something Allison needs to accept, he’s not the kind of submissive to accept his Dom not being interested. It’s his duty as her sub to keep her interested, and she will not dominate anyone else. 

\-- 

Allison has lost track of Jed; she gets a brief glimpse of the cloak or the hood of the hunter, but she can’t see Jed.  
“Scott,” she shouts out for his help as the sudden pain in her abdomen bursts from the arrow piercing her. Allison looks up to see the hunter stalking towards her, raising the crossbow to fire again; and under the hood she is looking at her own face.  
Hunter Allison looks at her, contempt clear in every twitch of lips as her mouth curls into a sneer.  
“Look at you, yelling for help, calling for wild animal to protect you, it’s pathetic Allison,” her hunter self mocks contemptuously at her, “but don’t worry, I’ve got a special treat for your doggies; and once I’m free of your restraint and no longer holding myself back their gonna see the real you.”  
As hunter Allison raises the crossbow to fire again she claws at the skin around her neck and pulls the flesh up and off her face like a mask revealing Kate Argent; “The real you kiddo,” as she fires the bolt .

Allison feels the pain, but then nothing. There is no hunter version of her standing there with her Aunts face, firing bolts at her. 

It doesn’t stop her feeling sick; the fear that she is just like her Aunt Kate underneath, or like Jed’s sister Rebeccah. She vows that she won’t allow herself to become like that; she won’t be consumed by the hate that fuelled her aunt’s actions. 

\-- 

Scott is weaving his way through the crowd; ignoring the half-naked submissives vying for the attention of any passing Dom. He’s lost sight of Jackson; his scent is faint, but everywhere and Scott can’t filter out the other scents, the lust, the jealousy, the fear and excitement; he can’t filter them to the background enough to pick up where Jackson’s scent is strongest. 

He stumbles to the foot of the stairs, knocking back another glass of punch, when he sees them; Gerard Argent running his hands over the smooth skin of Jackson’s chest, tweaking Jackson’s nipples just the way he enjoys.  
Scott tries to move towards them, but seems rooted to the spot; his fangs lengthening and claws extending, as his vision changing as his eyes turn to liquid gold. 

Gerard glides a hand up Jackson’s back and tangles his fingers in his hair, pulling his head back and exposing his neck.  
“You need a real Master to submit to,” Gerard’s tone is cruel and derisive, “someone who can truly dominate you; not some young pup trying to teach you tricks.”  
“Yes, Master,” at Jackson’s reply Scott feels like his heart is torn in two, the pain ripping through him as he watches. 

Watches his submissive, his Mate, fall to his knees in front of Gerard; as Gerard leans over him pulling his head back to look up as their lips meet and Gerard forces Jackson’s mouth open for his tongue to invade; breaking the kiss Gerard rises up and spits into Jackson’s open mouth, “Need to get rid of that filthy dog taste.”  
He pulls Jackson’s head towards his crotch. Scott pulls his gaze away as Jackson’s skin shimmers and changes to the greens and blues of the Kanima’s scales; the glass shatters in his hand.  
When he turns his eyes back to the top of the stairs, no-one is there. He looks at the shattered glass and wonders _what has Lydia done? What did she put in the punch?_

\-- 

Victoria Argent is sitting on her daughter’s bed; the moon is rising higher in the sky, she can feel its pull as she looks down at a picture of them both; Allison wrapped in her arms as they hug. She had wanted to talk to Allison earlier, to explain to her. Everything she did had been to protect her, her daughter, and Chris, her husband and submissive. She knows Allison doesn’t see that yet; but one day, when Allison is more like her than she can imagine; when she is a Mother and a Dominant, then she will know how far she will go to protect her child from the monsters out there. Even the ones that look human, that look like family and deal their granddaughters life away; making them more of threat, more of a monster than things they hunt.  
She can’t change what has happened, or what needs to happen, so there is no point in having regrets; but, she can still feel sorrow; at not being there for Allison when she collars her submissive; at not being there for her Chris, to guide him and ground him like a submissive needs. She has written her letter for Allison; hopefully, one day, she’ll understand. 

But now, she has to do this; she can’t let something have control over her life. She needs to be in control of her life, her feelings and actions; and there is only one way left to her. She turns to Chris sitting beside her; placing a hand gently on his cheek she wipes her thumb under his eye removing the tear that was falling.  
“I want to do it here, where I can be with her.” She looks into his eyes and his pain is so clear; but she can’t make it go away, she can’t comfort him. She can only add to it. Her hand slips from his cheek to grasp his own.  
“I’m going to need you to obey me one last time,” her voice catches as says the words, this is so much harder than she thought; so much more painfully emotionally, “I’m going to need you to help me.” She takes his hand as places it over her own holding the knife to her chest as the moon shines through the window and her eyes flash of gold. 

\-- 

Derek walks out of the carriage; Boyd, Erica and Jed snarling and snapping where they are bound and restrained. Only Isaac is calm, sitting shifted where Scott bound him to the seat; lengths of chain wrapped around his outstretched arms, down across his torso and still more chain fastening his spread legs to the seat. 

Derek can still smell Isaac’s arousal hanging thick in the air from when Scott restrained him; and Scott’s arousal too. Derek is sure that while on one level Scott is still not giving up on Jackson, with their bond incomplete and Jackson’s continued rejection his wolf is already considering Isaac as a possible Mate; and that maybe his plan to save Scott when he has to kill Jackson is working, though he will need to steer Scott away from Isaac; Scott is too much like Derek is himself and Scott needs a sub who is a masochist. 

It’s as Derek is distracted by the growing Isaac/Scott situation that he finds himself facing Lydia Martin; and then, as a purple haze envelops him from the powdered wolfsbane she blows from her hand, he collapses. 

\-- 

There’s a ding sounding as the elevator doors open; Allison brushes the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, the cars keys jingle with the movement, and she walks out into the hospital hallway. 

Her father is talking with a deputy from the sheriff’s office; Gerard is to the side of him with his back to them looking through the window into a room; on her father’s other side standing slightly behind him with her hand on his shoulder is Rebeccah. Her face a mask of concern and sorrow; it stops Allison’s tears in their tracks. 

>“What happened?” Allison can’t keep the hitch from her voice; the tears nearly returning and being kept in check by her gaze fixed on Rebeccah’s hand until she cautiously removes it from the grieving husband. Allison looks at her father’s face; her voice is strained as she asks again, “What happened? If this is some kind of sick training session you better tell me…” as the unbidden tears fall again. 

“No, I’m sorry,” her father’s quiet reply between his own cries of sorrow.  
“I’m so sorry Allison,” Rebeccah takes a step towards her, halted by Allison raising her hand; Allison is not sure why she is here, or why she had her hand on her father’s shoulder.  
“We’ll help you get the vermin responsible, believe me,” she continues, almost gleefully.  
Gerard turns from the window, the first words he says are, “Didn’t Jed come with you?” 

\-- 

Scott and Stiles are searching through room after room. They see debauchery on a near bacchanalian scale. 

Naked submissives drenched in the punch being spanked, flogged, whipped. Female Dominants are pouring the punch over their breasts, male Dominants covering their cock and balls in the punch, for one or more submissives to lick and suck from their flesh. 

Two female submissives are being used by a male and female Dominant couple; one submissive is lying on a low coffee table with a dildo harness attached, the other submissive is fucking herself on the dildo while the male Dominant penetrates her ass. The female Dominant is grinding her pelvis over the face of the prone submissive as she licks and sucks at her mound as the other submissive suckles at the Dominants breasts and the male Dominant pinches and pulls at the submissives nipples. 

“I don’t see Lydia anywhere,” Stiles states looking at Scott; he’s not looking at any of the activities around him, no way, this is so beyond the norm of one of Lydia’s parties it has entered another dimension and is on its way to Neverland.  
“No, and I don’t see Allison either,” Scott replies; he is really certain that this can’t be considered consensual submission, but there are too many people for him to stop what is happening; even if he wolfed out on them.  
“What the hell do we do?” Stiles asks frantically looking at the ground, the ground, anywhere but the chaos around them. 

The hear splashing from outside, people are being thrown into the pool; there is a sudden panicked shout of, “I can’t swim, I can’t swim.”  
Rushing out they see Jackson pulling Matt from the pool; the look in Matt’s eyes is murderous as he makes his way out of the party. Scott follows him. 

As Matt stands on the other side of the road Scott sees the Kanima crouched at his feet. He can’t quite make sense of it; Matt is a submissive, he’s not a Master, he’s not even a Dominant. But clearly just a one Dominant can dominate another, so can one submissive force another to submit. Matt is the Kanima’s Master. Scott’s rage and fury at Matt controlling his Jackson rises up in him, but before he can act they both vanish. 

\-- 

Lydia drags Derek’s body over the wooden floorboards of the old Hale house towards where the flooring has been ripped up uncovering the body of Peter Hale.  
“Lydia, stop, you don’t know what you’re doing,” Derek gasps between shallow breaths.  
She does know what she is doing. Peter made it very clear what she needed to do, and she really wishes she was stronger, had more control over her own actions because she really, really, doesn’t want to be doing this. She doesn’t want to bring back the man, no she knows he’s a werewolf, she doesn’t want to bring him back after everything he did to her. After everything he has been doing to her in her mind since the prom night; constantly in her head, controlling her, making her see things, hear things that aren’t real. And now making her turn the mirror round that will shine the moon light down and take from the Alpha to resurrect Peter. 

No; Lydia knows what she is doing, and she wishes, really wishes, she could stop. 

\-- 

Allison sat on her bed. A single thought running around in her head that she couldn’t get a hold of, couldn’t get an answer to; **_why?_**

She had read the letter her mother wrote; read it three times then burned it like her grandfather had said. It didn’t give her any answers; she didn’t find any comfort in the words. She found grief, and rage, and sorrow and pain, and **_why?_**

She knew her grandfather wanted her to give in to the rage. He tried to hid his manipulation, tried to make it seem as empathy for the ‘retribution’ she must need to find; the need to see someone pay for her mother’s death, to see Derek and his pack pay, but that was where she kept coming back to the question; **_why?_**  
Why did Derek bite her? It didn’t make sense that he would blindly attack, even though her family were responsible of the slaughter of his own her aunt, the instigator of their deaths, was already dead; and Derek would know that either she would die from the bite or that she would take her own life and that her family would hunt him down; **_so why?_**

She could already see her father being swayed by her grandfather; he had lost more than his wife; he had lost his Dom, his guide and his anchor; without her he was lost, ungrounded and it was all too easy for his grief to be led towards anger and rage. 

But, she was not about to give up control to her emotions; she would decide their course of action, but it will be within the code. If Derek did attack her mother and is a threat then they have no choice; and she hopes that isn’t the case, _but what could her mother have been doing that he would need to bite her?_

She needs to grieve, to give in to her pain and sorrow and cry; to have release and clear her head. She wishes Jed was here; wishes that she could hold on to him and feel his warmth; but that’s just not possible, and that thought just steels her anger. She grabs her pillow and wraps her arms around it, hugging it to her and cries until sleep takes her. 

\-- 

It had been too easy; he saw that now. When he and Stiles had convinced Stiles’ father to look at the evidence to find proof that Matt was behind the murders, it seemed that they were finally making headway to deal with the Kanima’s Master.  
Now, the Sheriff is handcuffed down by the cells; the deputies are all dead, ripped open by the Kanima; the brief glimpse of hope when Derek arrived shattered when he collapsed, paralysed by the toxin. Stiles is now laid out on top of Derek, also paralysed. 

And Matt is not stupid; crazy, but not stupid. When Scott had tried to command Jackson he might have succeeded, except Matt instantly threated to shoot Stiles if he tried again. Scott had seen the hesitation in the Kanima, the shifting of the eyes from the reptilian to Jackson’s blue colouring; he knows he could have broken through to his submissive.  
Matt has been careful since then; making sure that there is always the threat of Stiles or Stiles’ father being killed if Scott makes a move against him. Either from Matt using the deputy’s gun that he took, or from the Kanima; and now his mom is locked in a cell added to the list of possible casualties. Still, the stunned look on Matt’s face when she asked if Scott was healing after the initial shock of the gun shot had worn off. She had found out about Scott being a werewolf after the second time she found Derek in bed with him. Scott wasn’t having her think he was submitting to Derek, and despite Derek vetoing him telling his mom the truth he shifted anyway and showed her what he was. She had been shocked, and she had been scared; for him or of him he’s not sure, and not sure if he wants to know. She’s still working through what it means for them, and she’s beginning to understand some of his behaviour over the last few months; the late nights, the moodiness and temper, the evasiveness and not willing to talk about what he’s doing or where he is going. It’s the start of a reconnection.  
Of course the sheriff also now knows. When Matt was locking his mom into the cell she had asked Scott if he was okay, the sheriff could see the blood on Scott’s shirt and hands, and Matt had shouted at his mom that ‘ _he’s a freaking werewolf, it’s only a bullet wound, how is he not okay?_ ’. There is always the chance that the sheriff doesn’t believe that; he looked at Matt like he was completely crazy; or crazier. But, if he does know then Stiles won’t need to keep lying to his dad. 

But, right now, the fact that Matt is controlling him is nursing Scott’s anger; he’s a Dom for fucksake and really doesn’t like not being in control, and Matt is a sub. Matt is a sub, he’s a submissive and Scott’s a Dominant; and Matt hasn’t been claimed, the whole school has been talking about how he’s been chasing after Allison and that not one Dom at the school has tried to claim him. He hopes Matt doesn’t see a light bulb blink on over his head, and he hopes his idea works; it’s taken him long enough to think of it.  
Matt’s been talking about why he’s had the Kanima kill the old swim team; about the night after they won state championship and Isaac’s dad, the team coach, had his favourites over for a celebration; about their drinking and throwing each other in the pool, and how one of them threw him in and he couldn’t swim. They all continued to fool around, **_and not one of them noticed he was drowning_**. The next thing Matt knew was Mr Lahey leaning over him, making it clear that he was not to tell anyone about what had happened, the full power of his voice making sure that Matt would obey. 

“He shouldn’t have done that!” Scott unexpectedly exclaims, looking across at Matt.  
“ ** _Of course he shouldn’t having fucking done that_** ,” Matt is suddenly screaming right in Scott’s face, waving the gun around and up close against him, in reach, “he shouldn’t have given them alcohol, he shouldn’t have scared the shit out of me…” Scott grabs the back of Matt’s neck with one hand, his thumb stroking circles against the skin; he ignores the hand with the gun.  
“I know,” Scott’s voice is more calm and collected, and more ‘full of power’, than he feels, “he was responsible for his and their behaviour; he should have _taken care of you_ , made sure you were taken to a hospital and checked over; he deserved to be punished for what he did to you.” Scott’s thumb keeps up the pressure, circling on the back of Matt’s neck  
“You need someone _to take care of you_ Matt, someone _to ground you and guide you_ ; you need someone that can _meet your needs_ that you’re having to supress because you don’t have a Dominant. I can see how tense and strung-out you are, how much you _need to submit_ to someone to _give up the control_ that you have to exert.” Scott slides his other hand round Matt’s hip, slips it under his t-shirt so that it’s resting against his skin in the small of his back, avoiding the reptilian scales where Matt is starting to change into a Kanima, and starts the gentle caressing pressure rubbing circles with that thumb also.  
He needs to make Matt relax, to bring him down to his subspace; given how long he’s been dominating the Kanima, keeping control and not having his submissive needs met… Scott is sure he can do this. 

\-- 

**“Stiles!** ” Derek quietly growls at his sub lying on top of him, “now is not the time to be trying to make out.”  
“Nghhm nph mak ow”  
“Stop licking me, what are you saying?”  
“I’m not licking you or trying to make out with you,” Stiles coherently states, “unless you want to make out just now, but it really doesn’t seem the best move right now.”  
“Stiles!”  
“I’m trying to push myself off you with my tongue.”  
“What?”  
“I said…”  
“I heard what you said.”  
“Well do you have any brilliant ideas?”  
“I’m trying to speed the toxin out of my system by triggering the healing process.”  
“Is that working?” Stiles asks hopefully.  
“I can move my toes.”  
“Dude, _I can move my toes_ ,” Stiles lets his head fall back against his Dom’s. 

\-- 

Allison is pacing; she needs to calm herself down, but she’s nervous. They are outside the sheriff’s office; her father, grandfather, Rebeccah Koch, a couple of other hunters she doesn’t know and her. When the text came she knew it wasn’t Scott sending it; so clearly Scott was in trouble and she wanted to help. She just hopes this isn’t a mistake on her part. 

She made it clear that they are abiding by the code; and confusingly Rebeccah looked relieved about that, she couldn’t figure her aunts friend out at all. First she seems all gung-ho kill the rabid dog vermin scum, the next she seems to be almost werewolf friendly; she doesn’t make sense, everything about her seems a contradiction.  
Allison just hopes she can get to Derek and get some answers before her father, or any of the rest of the hunters, finds him; hell before they find any werewolf in there. 

\-- 

“I can help you Matt, I want to help you; take care of you and Jackson, take care your needs,” Scott keeps talking, keeps touching and soothing; keeping everything forceful, uniform and with substance.  
“Allison…” Matt tries to say that Allison is the Dom he wants to submit to; but Scott’s words, his touch is making it so difficult to think.  
“Don’t think about Allison, she doesn’t deserve you, she doesn’t realise what she missed out on when she rejected you. I’m not rejecting you Matt, I know what you need,” Scott’s breath hot against the side of his face as he leans in towards him, pulling him closer, “I can take care of you and Jackson, Matt; I know you’re a sadist like me, I can help you fulfil those needs with Jackson; together we can enjoy his pain. All you need to do is give control to me Matt, you want to submit, you want to be claimed; to be able to be yourself and be taken care of. Let me take care of you.” Scott can see the glassy look in Matt’s eyes; can feel him relax into his touch. 

Matt feels so good under Scott’s touch; he says he wants to care for him, to take care of his needs and desires, and he so wants to believe Scott’s words.  
Scott sounds sincere, he understands how Matt feels so abused and betrayed, and with a Dom looking out for him Matt knows that he’d never have to worry about that again; especially a Dominant like Scott. He’d never considered submitting to a guy, he’d always been more attracted to girls; but Scott is making him feel so good, all he can think about is the feel of Scott’s hands on him, the heat of his body. _Why had he wasted his time chasing after Allison? Scott is the highest rated Dom among the students at their school, he’s Ms Morrell’s favourite student, the whole school talked about how he made Brian submit. Obviously Scott would be a better Dom for him_. 

“We’ll find out what’s happening to you, we’ll fix you Matt, _you just need to let me take control_.” Scott can see it, the moment when Matt starts to allow himself to submit to his needs; to Scott  
Matt drops the gun to the floor and just leans against Scott; Scott’s lips against Matt’s forehead, his hands still pressed against his neck and back. 

The gunfire shatters through the windows and Scott’s plan falls apart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but I just had to use some of the Stiles/Derek scene. I just found it so funny when I read that it had originally been considered for the show that Stiles would use his tongue to try and push himself off Derek.


	21. And all the devils are here (pt1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always this has not been beta'd/proof-read, all mistakes are my own.

As the lights cut out, and the gun shots rip through the windows into the room, Scott dives to the floor dragging Matt down with him. He tries to pull Matt under the desk beside him, but Matt twists free from his grasp, painfully wrenched from the subspace he had been falling into by the sudden noise and chaos.

Scott tries to calm him, tries to explain to him about the hunters; he tries to get him to remain obedient, but in his suddenly returned agitated state, disorientated, Matt flees from the room as the smoke billows from the shell fired through the shattered windows.

Darting out from under the desk Scott ran to the room where they had left Derek and Stiles; there was no sign of Matt or the Kanima. Stiles was still prone on top of Derek.  
“Get him out of here!” Derek barks at Scott; at Scott’s pause he shouts, “Now. Go.”  
Scott lifts Stiles up and runs through the smoke filled corridors looking for somewhere safe to leave him; he has to make sure his mother and Stiles’ dad are safe too. He gets Stiles onto one of the chairs in an interrogation room.  
“Don’t move,” at Stiles’ expression he adds, “You know what I mean,” before rushing back out into the corridor.

 _‘Where had Matt gone?’ ‘Where was Jackson, or the Kanima?’_ Scott’s mind was racing as he ran through the darkened smoke filled corridors, stopping suddenly as he comes face to face with crossbow.  
“Allison, what are you doing?” of the people that could be shooting at him he hadn’t expected Allison to be among them.  
“Where’s Derek?”  
Scott can smell the grief rolling off her over the smoke, he can hear the anger in the edge to her voice and the pounding beat to her heart.  
“Allison?” Scott asks everything in her name. _What happened? What’s wrong? What can I do to help?_  
“Derek…” Allison promised herself that she would be strong, that she wouldn’t cry, but that resolve is crumbling as she gives voice to her mother’s death, “Derek bit my mom,” the tears pool in her eyes, “she didn’t die from the bite,” and fall down her cheek, “she killed herself rather than change. She’d never… I need to know why he did it; I need to know his reason, because otherwise I have no reason to stop my dad or the others killing him.”  
“Allison, I’m so sorry,” Scott reaches out to her, but she pulls back, “I can’t believe he’d do that, everyone he’s given the bite to they asked him to do it. I mean…”  
“Scott, either tell me where he is or get out of my way,” there’s a cold firmness to her voice; at Scott’s hesitation she pushes past him.

Scott considers following Allison to make sure she is okay, that she doesn’t kill his Alpha; or let her dad do it. But, he has to check his mom and the sheriff are safe; that the hunters haven’t hurt them, or that Matt or the Kanima haven’t. He wishes he knew where Matt was, that he could be sure he could stop him doing anything stupid; okay, maybe stupid is not the right word for mass murder, but part of him feels it’s not all down to Matt, that if he had a Dominant looking out for him he wouldn’t have gotten so out of control. _Or maybe you’re just trying to see the good in someone when there isn’t any, and why would that be, hmm? A cynical internal voice whispers in his head._

\--

Allison is sure that this is where she is going to die. A thought that began as she watched the Kanima pull the arrow from its head; a thought that grew after she leapt down on it, striking her blade deeply in and it still caught and held her fast; a thought that blossomed as it looked at her unaffected by the other knife as it struck.  
Now, as a lies here, paralysed by the venom left by the scratch of the creatures claws, listening to the clacking sound of the footsteps growing closer she is certain that this is where death will find her.

Matt looms over her; he stares down at her through cold eyes and she feels the icy frost of death settle on her skin.  
“Allison,” looks pleadingly at her as if asking why she was doing this, “you said I needed to accept you weren’t interested in me submitting to you; and you know at first I wasn’t going to, I was going to send Jackson, the Kanima, I should totally refer to him as the Kanima in this context,” he leans down closer to whisper the next words as if telling her a secret, “I think Scott prefers to think of Jackson and the Kanima being two separate beings; and I want to keep Scott happy,” he straightens back up leaving Allison confused as to why Scott’s happiness is important to him; the whisper gone as he continues, “Where was I, yes, I was going to send the Kanima to take care of that sub Jed that you were toying with, but then tonight I had a revelation, an epiphany, and I’ve found my Dom. He’s gonna take care of my, and Jacksons, needs; he’s gonna look out for me and give the guidance I need; ground me and give me security and stability. Scott’s gonna take care of me and Jackson, **and I don’t need to be distracted by _you_ anymore.** ” Matt’s voice rising in heated anger as his eyes remain coldly gazing down on her.

Allison’s eyes widen in incredulity; _Scott would never take on Matt as his sub, he’s only interested in Jackson_. It’s as if Matt can see the disbelief as he starts talking again, more calmly than before.  
“Scott already asked me to submit to him, told me that he would take care of me. I had just started to accept it was true, that he wanted my submission, wanted to take care of me **_when you and your rag-tag band of killers started shooting at us_**.” His voices rises again, “ _And don’t think I didn’t see how you tried to distract him_ ; I overheard your conversation, sorry about your mother by the way; but I can’t let you distract him, he’s my Dom and I need to look out for him like he’ll look out for me. You’re a hunter and I can’t let you _worm_ your way back into my werewolf Dom’s life like that; making him care, and want to help you; and he will too, because he cares like that,” Matt’s becoming more agitated as he talks, words running together, “he’ll want to do the right thing; everybody knows that about Scott and I can’t let you use that against him. _Those few minutes I had of submitting to him; that feeling of contentment, of not being afraid_. **_I need him and I won’t let you get in the way_**.”

Matt’s eyes suddenly close as a thud lands on the back of his head; he’s falling forward over Allison, but doesn’t land on her as an arm catches him around his chest.  
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Allison hears Scott’s voice asks, then he’s looking down at her over Matt’s body, “I didn’t kill him, just knocked him unconscious.”

Allison’s father is walking towards Scott, Matt and Allison; his gun levelled at Scott. There’s a single thought running through Chris Argents cognizance.  
“ ** _Where is Derek Hale?_** ” he yells at Scott.

As Scott turned his head sharply to look at Chris Argent a thought occurred to him. He didn’t know if it was true for all Dominants, but the idea had occurred to him that on the occasions he had wanted a submissive to obey him he used his voice much like a Bene Gesserit using ‘the voice’ in Dune. The thought had returned to him earlier with Matt, and came to him again as he spoke to Allison’s father.  
“ ** _Lower your gun._** ”  
Chris felt the authority in the words wash over him, but he fought the command; he couldn’t obey, he had to find and kill Derek; and his pack if they got in the way.

“ ** _Lower your gun._** ” Scott put more power in his words; he wasn’t shouting that wasn’t how it worked, it was the tone and authority with which you spoke that made others wish to submit to you. He could see Chris’s arm wavering, dropping slightly.  
“ ** _Lower your gun, you need to help Allison._** ” The mention of Allison seemed to get more of Chris’s attention; he lowered his gun and looked down at her.  
“ ** _You need to take Allison out of here; you need to get her to safety._** ” Turning his attention to Allison, Scott continued as her father wordlessly lifted her from the ground, “I don’t know where the Kanima went, and I need to get Matt locked in a cell and check on my mom and the Sheriff to make sure they are okay.”  
“We will talk later,” Scott said to Allison as her father carried her away. Allison didn’t reply.

\--

Scott managed to get to the cells without running into any other hunter. They let his mother out of the cell that Matt had locked her in and placing the unconscious Matt into the cell. Sheriff Stilinski was insisting the Scott stay there with his mom until he checked through the building, but then Stiles pulled himself into the room and the sheriff’s attention shifted to his son, allowing Scott to slip out.

Racing down a corridor he turned into the path of Gerard.

“What are you doing here,” Scott fights to keep his anger in check, “it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”  
“Trust me, I’m aware of that,” Gerard drily replies, before he forcefully asserts, “Now go and leave Matt and Jackson to me.”  
“No,” Scott just as forcefully replies, “Matt is in the cells, my mom is taking care of Stiles and the sheriff is calling for paramedics and back up. I don’t know where the Kanima has gone, but I think you’re the one that needs to leave before that back up gets here. I need to give the sheriff my statement.”  
Gerard turns to leave, shocked at Scott’s resistance to his command.  
“Wait,” Scott shouts, holding out the small silver pill case, “You dropped this.”  
Gerard takes the case, eyeing Scott warily.

When Gerard is gone Derek turns around the corner. Scott sees him and all his energy seems to vanish.  
“I almost had him Derek,” Scott collapses against Derek as he pulls the beta into a hug, “Matt was submitting to me, I was getting him to drop his control and then the hunters attacked.”  
“We’ll find him Scott,” Derek comforts him; Scott nuzzling in the crook of his Alpha’s neck, “Come on; let’s check on your mother and my submissive.”

\--

Peter follows Gerard from the Sheriff’s station, along the bank of the stream towards the bridge. He sees the Kanima crawl uncertainly towards Gerard.  
“No longer afraid of the water,” Peter can hear every word Gerard says, “well you don’t have to be afraid of anything my friend; especially me.”

\--

Stiles was in his bedroom, he was naked and on his knees; the leather wrist cuffs attached to the D-ring at the back of the leather collar around his neck. He was learning just how much Derek liked the look of leather on him; and of how much he liked the feel of leather on himself, of how much the smell of it as the leather heated against his skin affected him; and given he could smell the scent of the heated leather what could his werewolf Dom smell? How did it smell to Derek, and did it affect him the same way it affected Stiles?

He had gotten back from his appointment with Ms Morrell about an hour and half ago. This had been Stiles’ first session with her since the incident at the sheriff’s station; but he would be having a few for a while to come.  
Her words resonated with him, when she had quoted Winston Churchill, ‘ _If you're going through hell, keep going_ ’. They had been doing that for a while really, first with Peter, now with the Kanima and Gerard; at times Stiles would wonder if _Hell was empty and all the devils were here in Beacon Hills_ , to misquote Shakespeare. It seemed that their life was now to keep going through hell; there didn’t seem to be an end. Not a happy one anyway; not that he could see.

There had been no sign of the Kanima, or Jackson, when the hunters had cleared off and the paramedics and other officers arrived. Matt was kept in isolation; Scott kept him in subspace, reassuring him, keeping him calm. It seemed all Matt needed to bring him back from the psychotic murdering nut-job to a regular human being was Scott’s touch and voice.

Stiles hadn’t been sure how Scott could bear to be in the same room as Matt and not want to kill him, Matt had been the reason Jackson had been killing people; the reason Jackson had stopped talking to or submitting to Scott. Then Stiles had seen Scott, out of sight or hearing of Matt, completely lose it; it had taken all of Derek’s Alphaness to rein him in, until Scott was clinging to him like Derek was the only thing keeping him alive. That was when Stiles realised; Scott couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Matt, but Matt had accepted Scott as his Dominant, and Scott saw Matt as an abused sub who needed help and that helping him was the right thing to do. So obviously Scott would, no matter how much it hurt him.

Scott asked Matt to tell the Sheriff truthfully everything that had happened, to recount what he had told Scott; and he did. They, Derek, Deaton and the Sheriff, had to work out what could actually go in the official report. Deaton had made arrangements for Matt to be treated at a special clinic; it had taken some organizing on his part, but he had contacts and was able to make it all official and ‘above board’. It was clear with Matt turning into a Kanima that they couldn’t let him be treated or held at any normal facility, and Scott had promised Matt that they were going to help him, to try and find out how to stop what was happening to him. So Matt was being moved to be held at this facility north of Los Angeles, and Deaton was going with him. Matt’s parents would be able to visit eventually, and Scott would be given regular updates as he was being recognised as Matt’s Dominant.

Oh, and Stiles’ dad knows about werewolves now; that Scott was one and that Derek was one. He and Scott’s mom are downstairs just now talking about it. She’s known for a little while now and is just starting to get used to the idea; she figures that maybe talking to her may help his dad.

But now Stiles mostly isn’t thinking about anything. He’s kneeling in front of Derek, who is sitting fully clothed on Stiles’ bed. Stiles has his head in Derek’s lap, his cheek against the heat of Derek’s thigh through the denim of his jeans. Derek is softly running his hand over Stiles’ hair, gently stroking his other cheek with the backs of his fingers. Stiles kneels there, accepting his Dom’s attention, as his eyes turn glassy and vacant; the thoughts clouded in his mind as he slips deeper into his subspace.

\--

Boyd doesn’t really think this is what Derek had in mind when he sent Erica and himself to ‘ _keep an eye_ ’ on Lydia. Derek never explained why they were to watch her, but Derek never really explains anything.  
Of course the first day that they are sneaking between the trees and bushes around her house she sees them; and somehow that results in _this_ becoming their regular way of keeping an eye on her.  
Not that Boyd can see her right this minute.

He’s kneeling naked on her bed, his tongue lapping at Erica’s clitoris, his forehead pressed against her as she scrapes her claws over his nipples; Lydia fucking herself on the harness as the strap-on dildo rides back and forth in his ass, hitting his prostrate time and again, as she slaps his ass with every forward thrust; heating his flesh with the sting. Just as well he’s a werewolf and the marks and scrapes will heal before they get back to the hide-out before dawn.  
Erica and Lydia locking lips as they make out somewhere over him, not that he can see; but he can hear them.  
He is so close to coming, so close; but he mustn’t. Lydia has already said if he comes without permission he’ll be punished, and he doesn’t want to feel the riding crop on his ass again. She did that yesterday when he came before she gave permission, and damn she knows how to use it. That pain is not something he wants to get used to; _probably_.

\--

Scott turns off his shower; the water still cascading down his body, clinging to his skin as the rivulets glide down the plane of his back, and break across his nipples as they flow down into the well of his belly button.  
As he wipes the steam from the mirror he hears the distinctive hiss from his room. Slowly walking out of his bathroom he sees the Kanima in the far corner, up by the ceiling, its tail wrapped around his mother’s neck holding her from the floor.  
“As you can see Scott,” Gerard’s voice draws his attention to the chair across from his bed, “there have been some interesting developments lately; I think we should catch up.”

Scott’s claws lengthen, sharp and dangerous at the ends of his fingers.  
“Come on Scott,” Gerard darkly states, “Whom do you really think has the upper hand here.”  
“Let her go.” Scott is looking in the direction of his mother.  
“I can’t do that; but let her live, that’s entirely up to you,” Gerard says as he stands from the chair.  
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Scott says looking at the hunter before returning his gaze to the Kanima, “ **Jackson. Let. Her. Go.** ” The power and surety in his voice causing the tail to unfurl, allowing Scott’s mom to fall to the ground; Jackson partially visible in the scaled naked figure that falls behind her before Gerard regains control.  
“No, McCall,” an angry sneer curls at Gerard’s mouth, “You’re forgetting the myth Scott, the Kanima is a weapon of vengeance; and that gives me a lot more control over him than you can have.”  
“ _What do you want?_ ” the anger leeches at the edge of Scott’s voice.  
“What I’ve always wanted, Derek Hale and his pack; I didn’t just come here to bury my daughter, I came to avenge her.”  
“You’ve sent Derek and m,” Scott quickly corrects his slip, “His pack into hiding, they’ve gone to ground; I don’t know where they are.”  
“I think you’ll agree I have a great motivational tool, I’m sure you can find out.”

As Gerard and the Kanima leave, Scott rushes to his mother’s side. She’s scared and crying, begging Scott to give Gerard whatever he wants, but Scott knows he can’t do that; he has to find a way to defeat Gerard and save Jackson.

\--

When Erica and Boyd get back to the hideout they’re agitated; they heard wolves howling in the woods. They know there are no wolves in California, and there are no other werewolf packs in the area; Derek would know if there was another pack in his territory.

Derek thinks it could be hunters trying to lure them out. He intends to scout them out, find out their numbers and how close they are getting to them; he tells them to leave it to him.

They know Derek said it’s too dangerous for them, that they’ve done enough already letting him know; but they want to do more, they plan to do more.

\--

John Stilinski was tired.

They were understaffed at the station after the incidents so he was working long hours. The investigation into who was behind the gun fire was not going far. He knew it Chris Argents family, but there was only so far he could push with what evidence they had; without endangering Stiles’ werewolf Dom, and that was something that was taking getting used to. Werewolves are real, and Stiles has accepted the claim of one; is ‘ _Mated_ ’ to one. He worries about that, it seems too serious a relationship for him to be getting into at his age; but he can’t deny how settled, grounded and happy Stiles is with Derek. So what is he going to do? The only thing he can, support his son.

He’s been at the station for twelve hours already; working through the paperwork to move Matt to the facility that Deaton has arranged, working through the ballistics reports and analysis reports on the bullets, shells and crossbow bolts found around the station.  
The last thing he expected to see was Chris Argent walking in to talk to him.

John listened as Chris talked; warning him that Stiles could be in danger having accepted the claim of Derek Hale as his Dominant, that to some of the residents of Beacon Hills it may not look good that the Sheriff’s son is the submissive of a man who was a person of interest in more than one murder investigation. But, John Stilinski was no one’s fool; he could clearly see the veiled threat in Argent’s comments, and he wasn’t allowing anyone to get away with threatening his family. And that family included Derek Hale now.

“Why don’t you sit there,” John wasn’t putting his full assertiveness into his voice, not yet, “And tell me some more about these people that judge a man exonerated of any wrong-doing and are likely to take matters into their own hands,” it wasn’t a question, or a suggestion; Chris Argent got that.  
“I didn’t mean to imply…” John doesn’t let him finish.  
“Oh, I think that’s exactly what you intended to imply,” he’s not holding back now, “And once we’ve discussed that to my satisfaction,” he smiles at Chris as his eyes are cast downwards and his posture slides into a submissive bearing, “and then we can discuss which of your customers may have bought some of these items from you,” John slides the folder with the ballistics report over to Chris, “Can’t we **_boy?_** ” But he wasn’t asking, and Chris knew that.  
“Yes, Sir.”

\--

Peter catches the shard of mirror inches from his throat as Derek turns to face him.  
“I expected a slightly warmer welcome,” Peter deadpans, “It’s quite a situation you’ve got yourself Derek, I’m out of commission for a few weeks and suddenly there’s a lizard person, geriatric psychopaths, and you’re cooking up werewolves out of every self-esteem deprived adolescent in town.”  
“What do you want,” Derek glowers at his uncle.  
“I want to help,” Peter schools his voice, his expression, everything showing sincerity, “you’re my nephew, the only relative I have left; you know there is still a lot I can teach you.” With every word he steps closer to Derek, “Can we just talk?” He smiles, placing a hand on Derek’s shoulder; Derek glances down at the touch.  
“Sure, let’s talk.” With one blow he sends Peter flying back through the air.

Peter is thrown from room to room as Derek punches, kicks or throws him around.  
“You don’t think I want to be the Alpha again, do you?” he asks through bloodied teeth, “It wasn’t exactly my finest hour; after all it ended in my death.” As Derek raises his fist to strike again Peter rages at him, “Alright go ahead, hit me; I mean I’m not a submissive or a masochist so it’s doing nothing for me; but if you’re getting off on hitting me, while I’m all for helping out family where I can, don’t you think it’s more than a little inappropriate?”

Derek lets him drop to the ground and stalks away; he doesn’t want to be near his uncle right now, not just because he’s manipulative and untrustworthy, but also because killing him for murdering Laura hadn’t curbed Derek’s need to avenge his sister’s death; not when he has the arrogance to resurrect himself from the grave.

“See, I’m not as strong as I used to be; I’m not healing as fast,” Peter looks across at his nephew, “I need a pack, I need an Alpha. I need you as much as you need me.”  
“Why would I want help from a total psycho?” Derek snorts, not even looking back at his uncle.  
“First of all, I am not a total psycho…”  
“Don’t,” Derek warns him, allowing his wolf to push against the surface, allowing the fullness of his strength into his words, “Don’t you dare defend your sanity when you killed your niece, **_my sister_** , just so you could become Alpha; when you cut her in two, when you hunted down a sixteen year old boy and bit him without his consent, when you terrorised a group of teenagers trying to get that same sixteen year old to kill his friends. **_Don’t you dare_**.”  
“We’re all works in progress,” Peter softly responds, head bowed as he looks up at Derek, “But it’s not as if I went all Norman Bates and kept her body in the basement while I dressed in her clothes, is…” Derek doesn’t let him finish.

With a roar Derek pins his uncle against the wall.  
“You need me Derek, you were never given the training and knowledge to become and Alpha,” Peter sounds desperate, but Derek can hear it in his heart; the truth of his words, “I can help you, I can tell you how to defeat Gerard, how to stop Jackson.”  
“How to kill him?” Derek asks  
“How to save him.”

\--

Isaac and Danny are next to each other in the locker room; watching Scott as he watches Jackson, as they all change for the match.  
“Please, Danny, Sir, _please promise me_ that you’ll stay away from him on the pitch tonight,” Danny turns to Isaac, he’s so earnest and solemn; very different from the joyous tearful boy at the clinic earlier, when Deaton and Scott had shown him the werewolf ability to take away some of the pain from the animals that weren’t improving. His smile through the tears streaming his face had been beautiful, and Danny loved to see his sub smile.  
Danny hooks a finger under Isaac’s collar, runs it against his skin as Isaac continues to plead with him, “Please, Sir, please if he comes near you, if you see him running towards you, _please_ , run in the opposite direction.”  
He curls his finger around the collar and pulls his submissive towards him, kissing his lips, “I promise, I’ll keep clear of Jackson; but you need to promise to keep yourself safe too, I mean it no taking chances.”  
“Thank you, I will Sir.” Isaac smiles at him and Danny can’t help but smile back.

Melissa McCall can’t believe the coach’s ridiculous speech; the speech from Independence Day has nothing to do with sport. When Gerard Argent walks in to the locker room she shrinks back in the crowd; the man scares her, more than she thought possible. When he talks about the team going out on the field to ‘ _murder them_ ’ she knows what he really means, and looking at her son she knows that he does too. She gets it then; at that moment she realises that Scott can’t let this man get what he wants. Gerard Argent has to be stopped.

\--

Erica and Boyd are running; running for their lives.

Derek was right; it is hunters creating the howling they heard, from a recording, and they got to close. The hunters are after them on quad bikes; two of them they recognise, Allison and her father; the other two, a women and a man, they don’t recognise. Not under the crash helmets they are wearing, but the scent; there is something familiar about the scent.

They crash through the forest trying to shake them; but constantly the sound of the bikes roaring behind them, or the recorded howl echoing through the night, disorients them; not knowing which direction is safe they run, and run; running scared and running in circles, not knowing whether they are running to safety or running into a trap.

Hand in hand they run, the rustle of the forest flora underfoot; both desperate to save the other, both desperate to find the safety of Derek and their pack, both desperate to hold onto burgeoning relationship that has started with their green-eyed, strawberry blonde Dom; Lydia, they hope, is feeling the same way.

Jed is conflicted. He is holding on to Allison on the back of the bike; his sister is sitting behind Allison’s father holding on to him as they race around after two of his pack mates. Allison knows that he was with the pack on the night of the full moon, she arranged it through Scott, but they haven’t talked about it. He hasn’t told her that he was bitten by Derek and accepted into the pack; she doesn’t know.  
He wants to help them; keep them from getting caught, Allison made it clear that the object of the hunt is to catch them, to lure Derek out to defend his wolves. Her father on the other hand, he wants revenge for the death of his wife, his Dom; and Jed doesn’t think he will stop at catching them.  
He doesn’t know what to do, how to save them; not without his sister and Allison’s father finding out that he’s a wolf, and without Allison finding out he is part of Derek’s pack.

Allison speeds up their bike, trying to catch her father and Rebeccah. Her father stopped the bike he was driving and has leapt off. His first arrow spears through Erica’s calf, she falls; Boyd turns, he won’t leave her. Her father fires bolt after bolt from the crossbow; moving forward with every shot, Boyd and Erica are peppered with arrows stuck in their flesh; Erica is begging him to stop, Jed can smell the fear, the anger and the tears. If he doesn’t stop he’ll kill them.

Jed is about to leap from the back of the bike and give himself away, rush to Chris Argent to stop him; but someone else stops him before he moves.  
Rebeccah knocks his arm spoiling his shot, and grabs the crossbow from him; standing in front of him Jed can clearly hear her say, “Allison said to **_catch_** them, **_to abide by the code_** ; these two haven’t harmed anyone, and are **_not_** to be harmed. _They are not responsible for your Dom’s death_.”

\--

Scott has never felt so trapped, caged in by circumstances that he can’t control. He doesn’t like, and he needs to take back control.

Gerard has control of his submissive; will force him to kill someone if he doesn’t give him Derek. But he knows that if he does Gerard will kill his pack anyway. He can’t let that happen; he has a plan, but will it work? Has there been enough time?

Stiles is on the field; Isaac has just been carried off, paralysed by the Kanima. His mom has just told him to forget what she said before; that if he can do something to help he has too. He’s promised her he will.

\--

Jackson watches as Scott picks himself from the ground; listening to Gerard’s promise of the prize for giving him Derek being Allison; that he will abide by their agreement. All he needs to do to get Allison is give Derek to Gerard.  
But Scott told him he didn’t want Allison; that he wouldn’t give up on Jackson; that he’d fight for them. He’d begun to believe Scott, to think he could trust him. _Had he been right all along? Was it all lies?_

\--

Scott looked around the locker room, but after dealing with the hunter goons that Gerard had with him he didn’t see where Gerard had gone. Isaac was safe at least; he’d gotten there in time to stop Gerard using his sword.  
Proof, if any was needed, that Gerard was not a man of his word. He’d promised Danny not to harm Isaac in exchange for information; that promise was clearly worthless.

He headed back out to the field; there was only a few minutes of the game left. He had to find Gerard and stop him.

As the whistle blew Scott felt a moment of relief. The match was over; they had won and no-one was dead. Then the lights went out.

Scott frantically looked around as floodlight after floodlight went out; then the screaming started. People running and screaming in all directions around him; bumping and jostling him as they rush trying to escape, to get away from whatever is happening. He hears his mother shouting his name; he sees someone on the ground out in on the field. His mom rushes towards him; she’s okay, but someone is down, someone is hurt.

The lights come back up, one by one; the coach is running to the downed player; Scott and his mom run forward.

**_No. It can’t be._ **

Scott doesn’t notice his mother start CPR on Jackson.  
Scott doesn’t hear when Stiles’ father asks where he is; he doesn’t hear him shouting Stiles’ name.

All Scott knows as he collapses to his knees beside Jackson is he failed; he promised his sub, his Mate, that he would save him; but he didn’t, he failed him and let him die.  
He doesn’t realise when his eyes turn golden; he doesn’t feel his claws extend and dig into his thigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depending on the progress I make or don't with the final parts of this I may merge the two planned chapters (And all the devils are here (pt2) / Epilogue) into one; therefore the next chapter to be posted could be the last one for this story.


	22. And all the devils are here (pt2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always this has not been beta's/proof-read. All mistakes are my own; I've corrected a couple of minor points and re-posted.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

Danny and Isaac grab hold of Scott and pull him off the field; they need to get him out of sight before anyone notices, and although he struggles it’s as if the fight has gone from him. Between the two of them they are able to drag Scott from the field. They are sure that no-one noticed Scott’s partially transformed features; except his mom, who alerted them to the problem, and the sheriff; now they just need to hide him until everyone else has gone. 

Scott’s mom has gone with Jackson’s body, foisting herself on the ambulance crew, for a submissive she can be pretty forceful when she needs to be; and she has had to be, she has a teenage son who’s a Dominant to raise. 

\--- 

Stiles stumbles as he is shoved down the stairs into the dark, unlit, basement. He falls down the final steps; the hunter closes the door behind himself as he leaves. Stiles is left in the darkness, with the whimpers that aren’t his own. 

He fumbles in the darkness against the wall behind him trying to find a light switch. Clicking it on he’s looking at Erica and Boyd; tied up and hanging by their wrists from the ceiling. 

He tries to remove the bindings from Erica’s wrist, he can’t understand what their trying to tell him because of the gags in their mouths; then the electric current shoots through him, making him jump back from the shock. 

“They were trying to warn you it was electrified,” Gerard casually says as he walks down the stairs. 

“What are you doing to them?” Stiles turns to look at the man, only turn his gaze to the ground; the self-confidence and authority radiating from Gerard bring Stiles’ submissiveness to the fore. 

“At the moment,” Gerard leans against the wall; his arms crossed casually, “keeping them comfortable. There’s no point in torturing them they won’t give Derek, their Alpha, up.” 

“Okay, so what are you doing with me?” 

“You, Stiles, are his submissive; registered at the Centre...” Stiles mouth runs off, interrupting Gerard, and with the brain to mouth filter switched off. 

“Yeah, so I’m not likely to give up where Derek is either; even if I knew where he was, which I don’t, and he can find me, he can track me, he knows my scent; it’s kinda pungent, more of a stench; even if I were buried at the bottom of a sewer covered in faecal matter and urine, he could find me.” 

“You have a knack for painting a vivid picture boy,” Gerard emphasises Stiles’ submissive position, “let me pain one of my own; the little dog you let...” Stiles can’t help but interrupt. 

“I wouldn’t say he’s little, not huge, but...” Gerard’s snicker is more of sneer; enough to stop Stiles mid-sentence. 

“Let me start again,” Gerard scowls, causing Stiles to again drop his gaze, “that savage beast that **_you allow to use and abuse_** you, that animal that **_takes_** your submission, how about it uses its dog like sense of smell and tracks you down, like a good hunting dog, and it finds you bloody and beaten to a pulp. How does that sound?” 

“I think I might prefer more of a still life or a landscape, you know.” Stiles’ voice is small and quiet. 

The first blow, with the back of Gerard’s hand, lands and knocks Stiles to the side; he trips over his own feet, falling to the ground. Then the blows rain down on him; Gerard grabbing the front of his lacrosse jersey with one hand and the fist of his other hand smashes into Stiles’ face, again and again. 

Erica and Boyd hang limp in their bonds; unable to help Stiles; unable to stop Gerard; unable to do anything except cry, and quietly whimper into the gags strapped around their mouths. 

\--- 

“Damn it all to hell!” John Stilinski is pissed off; if Stiles is missing because the Argents... he’ll... he’ll... 

“He’s probably freaked out from all the attention or something,” Isaac comforts him. 

“Yeah,” Danny adds, “the excitement probably got to him and he’s laying low; we’ll find him.” 

They are in the locker room, everyone else is gone; Scott is sitting on a bench in front of the lockers, staring ahead. He still can’t believe what happened; Jackson is dead. 

A scent catches his attention; he turns his head sharply to the entrance as Derek walks through, the anger radiating from him clear enough for then non-werewolves to pick up on. 

“We need to talk,” Derek states to his pack; he doesn’t notice the sheriff standing to the side between two of the lockers, he doesn’t pick up his scent among the mix of sweaty teenage jocks hanging in the locker room air. 

Scott is looking past Derek; he’s still looking at the doorway he entered through. He recognises the scent, he remembers it from before. Peter walks in from the shadows. 

“We all do,” Peter stands behind Derek; not quiet pulling of the nonchalance he’s trying for. 

“Who is he?” Isaac asks, nodding his head in Peter’s direction. 

“That’s Peter, Derek’s Uncle, a little while back he tried to kills all and we set him on fire and Derek slit his throat.” Danny, Isaac and the Sheriff turn to look at Scott; it’s the first words he has spoken since he was taken from the playing field. Derek and Peter notice the sheriff now that he has moved from between the lockers. 

“How is he alive?” Scott asks, wondering if there is some way they could use that to bring back Jackson. 

“Look short version is that he knows how to stop the Kanima, maybe how to save Jackson.” Derek and Peter both pick up the stutter in the Scott’s heartbeat, the sudden spike in his scent of anguish, “What? What’s happened?” 

“Jackson’s dead,” Danny tells them. 

“And Stiles is missing,” the sheriff adds. Derek’s head whips round to stare at the man, taking in the look of concern and worry on his face; a look now matched by his own, but Derek is sure that Stiles is still alive. He _feels_ it; more strongly than he feels his beta’s. 

\--- 

They split up. 

Derek ‘asked’ Danny to go with the sheriff back to his house and wait there with him in case Stiles showed up; Derek didn’t expect this. He was sure that the Argents had him and were counting on him charging in unprepared, it was what his wolf wanted; to chase down those that had his Mate. And he would, but not on their terms. 

Scott and Isaac accompanied him back with his uncle to the old Hale house. They needed to work out why Gerard had wanted Jackson to ‘die’; there had to be a reason, and his uncle had some resources hidden at the house. Derek wasn’t sure where, he had searched the place and found nothing. 

As his uncle brought it out from under the stairs Derek had been sure it was a book; only to receive a put-down from his uncle on what century he was living in as he pointed out it was a laptop. As far as Derek was concerned his uncle needed to get a newer laptop, it looked thick enough to be a book; laptops were thinner nowadays. 

Derek’s phone rings; it is Scott’s mom calling from the morgue 

“Mrs McCall,” Derek answers as he walks away out of the others hearing; receiving a scowl from Scott as he wonders why his mother is calling Derek. 

“Well, Derek, does Stiles know about this; not that I can blame you, I mean the thought of having Melissa McCall submission...” he turns to Isaac, “I mean have you seen Scott’s mom, **_she is gorgeous_**.” 

“ ** _Shut up!_** “ Scott and Derek shout at the same time. 

Melissa had told Derek that given Scott’s reaction at the lacrosse match she had called him rather than Scott. 

“Why was my mom calling you?” Scott asks his Alpha. Derek considers before answering; but he’s sure his beta is strong enough to handle the information he just received, Scott seems less affected by what happened to Jackson now than when Derek first arrived at the school. Derek decides not to coddle Scott; he’ll give him the truth. 

“Something is happening with Jackson,” Scott’s eyes widen in fear at the words, “your mom noticed some viscous liquid dripping from the body bag he is in; she opened it to find he was covered in a clear cocoon from the neck down.” 

“What’s happening to him?” Scott’s voice is quiet; but there is no hesitation, no shakiness. 

“I don’t know,” Derek knows his decision to be truthful with Scott was correct, “I need you and Isaac to head to the hospital; meet up with your mom...” 

“I’ll go meet with Scott’s mother I’d like to...” the growl from both Scott and Derek stops Peter briefly, “I’d like to see how she is doing I was going to say, probably.” His smirk doesn’t convince anyone; as they couldn’t tell anyway. 

“Scott, I need you and Isaac to get to the hospital, check out what is happening with Jackson while Peter and I look through the lore, records and reference books on his old laptop.” Peter glowers at him; Derek just raises an eyebrow at him. 

Scott and Isaac have left, rushing to the hospital. 

“So, Scott seemed concerned about Jackson,” Peter comments to Derek. 

“And?” Derek asks; eyeing his uncle with chariness. 

“So suspicious,” Peter says; he knows Jackson isn’t the submissive he bit after biting Scott. When Scott resisted him he knew Scott was a dominant; so in a move to bring him into his pack he bit someone he identified as a submissive, someone for Scott to take as his Mate. That someone wasn’t Jackson, and the events of the night he killed Kate played out before he got a chance to follow up on his plan, “if Scott cares for Jackson, and if Jackson cares for Scott; if they have a relationship _, if there is a bond between them_ , **_that_** is how we save him; if it’s not too late.” 

“Jackson is Scott’s Mate,” Derek’s voice is even as he talks, “but they are not bonded.” 

“If they are Mates then it will be more than enough.” 

\--- 

Stiles has a whole story ready to tell his Dad; about how it was some of the other team that beat him up because they were sore about losing the game, and he was being the sassy submissive mouthing off at them about how he scored, not once, not twice, but three times and snatched the victory from them. Only as soon as his Dad sees him he pulls him into a hug, and his dad is crying; crying like Stiles hasn’t seen him cry since his mom died. 

“Dude, what did the Argents do to you?” That is when he notices Danny in the room, and why is Danny here? Danny isn’t his Dom any more. 

“Stiles,” his dad steps back from the hug; placing his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, “Who did this to you?” 

“It was some of the other team...” Stiles tries to lie to them; he has to try he can’t risk Derek going after Gerard, it’s what Gerard wants. 

“ **STILES!** “ both his dad and Danny voice at him; and damn he’s being double-Dom’d, and that’s something he thinks he might have liked except one of the Dom’s is his dad, and really euwgh; that’s worse than if one of them was Scott. If it had been Derek and Danny; now that could work, especially when he remembers the dream he had. And oh my god, thankfully there are no werewolves in the house to pick up on what that thought does to him. 

“STILES!” his dad persists, “WHO DID THIS TO YOU!” Stiles can’t resist being truthful when his dad uses that tone; he’d thought with Derek being his Dom he’d have built some resistance to it, but it’s still a case of resistance is futile. 

“It was Gerard,” Stiles eyes are downward cast; his voice barely a whisper. He sees Danny on his phone, “You can’t tell Derek,” he shouts pleadingly, “that’s what Gerard wants, he did this as a message to Derek; he wants Derek to go after him. It’s a trap.” 

“We figured that much,” Danny replies, “but he knew you were alive.” 

“It was the only thing that stopped him doing something I would have had to arrest him for,” his dad is looking down on him, “and frankly I’m not entirely sure I wouldn’t have been inclined to help him.” 

“They have Erica and Boyd,” Stiles looks between his dad and Danny, “they’re tied up in the basement and hanging from the ceiling; there’s electric wires running through ropes and it’s keeping them shocked from the current. It stops them being able to use their wolfly powers.” 

Danny hits the call button on his phone. 

\--- 

Scott is doing his best to not to freak out. He’s the Dominant one here, his mom and Isaac are both subs; it’s his responsibility to be strong and look out for them. But damnit; his sub, his Mate, Jackson, is lying there covered in some clear goo that is oozing from the Kanima claws at the tips of his fingers. 

“What’s happening to him?” Scott asks. 

“I thought you were gonna tell me,” his mom replies, “is it bad?” 

“It doesn’t look good,” Isaac helpfully states. 

Jackson twitches and everyone jumps back; this can’t be good, but at least he’s still alive. 

“Mom, can you zip it up please,” he didn’t mean to say it so forcefully, but despite the fear he can smell his mom does as he asks. 

Then it hits Scott; _Jackson is still alive_ , and he can still save him. He just needs to find out how; unfortunately that means asking Peter. 

\--- 

They hear the clicks of the heels of her boots on the stairs before they see her; both Erica and Boyd are trembling, a mixture of fear and anticipation running through them. Is Allison coming to free them, or has she forsaken them to her grandfather’s wishes? 

Only it isn’t Allison. It’s the woman who stopped Chris Argent killing them in the woods. 

“I remember listening to Gerard Argent tell a group of us all about how his family had studied the effects electricity on werewolves, about how they discovered at a certain level of current and you can’t transform, increase it a few amps and you can no-longer heal, higher still and you have no heightened strength.” 

“I remember the fire of righteousness in his eyes, the certainty in his voice that what they had done to obtain this kind of information was justified. You had to know the strengths and weaknesses of the unnatural in order to defeat it.” 

“And I wondered, with all they had discovered did they never consider that what they were finding out was just how blurred the lines between the natural and supernatural actually were?” 

“And then my friend, Kate, burned the Hale family in their home. Grandparents; parents; aunts; uncles; husbands; wives; brothers; sisters; cousins; children; werewolves and humans. So, I got my answer; some of them didn’t care.” 

“But, the Argents had influence, and there were many who backed what had happened. You were just as much of a monster if you lay with one. So despite the fact that the code had been broken, nothing happened to Kate; or those who helped her.” 

“Not everyone agreed with that; there were those in the council that believed the code had to be maintained; that unless a supernatural spilled human blood they should be left alone. So a rift developed in the leadership, between fundamentalist who think that any supernatural is a threat to be dealt with, and those that believe in maintaining the code.” 

“Then Jed returns from his trip around the colleges of the country; looking for where he wants to study. He really thinks that no-one noticed he disappears every full moon; that he’s quieter and more withdrawn from us than he used to be.” 

“Now, our family runs a little different to the Argents; it’s not a case of the women lead and the men follow when it comes to dealing with the supernatural. It’s the Dominants who carry out the hunting and the submissives who plan. So Jed was never out on the actual hunts; but at the full moon, he was never around when the others returned.” 

“Most didn’t really pay attention, so it was easy for me to cover for him. To lie to the rest of the family; they wouldn’t question me. They haven’t; and Jed doesn’t even realise that they suspected, or that I know.” 

“He doesn’t even realise that I noticed the bite on his shoulder from your Alpha when he returned the day after Victoria Argent killed herself.” 

She turns off the current surging through wires connected to Erica and Boyd. 

“So I suggest you get back to your and my little brothers’ pack; they are going to need you. I have to fetch my brother and go save his Dominant, and your Alpha, from Gerard and his son.” 

\--- 

Peter searches for information on the Kanima cocoon that is enveloping Jackson on the laptop. 

“It appears that what we’ve seen from Jackson so far is just the Kanima’s beta shape,” he informs Derek, “He is turning into something bigger; _bigger and badder_.” 

“He’s turning into that, **_that has wings_** ,” Derek exclaims, he can’t believe the image he is staring at on the screen. 

“Someone made an animation of it,” Peter plays the video file; a loud screech emits from the speakers and Peter slams the laptop closed; the animation wasn’t any less frightening. 

Derek tells Scott to meet them half way; they don’t have time for him to bring Jackson back to the house. 

“Are you going to tell him?” Peter looks at Derek with his eyebrows raised, the questioning gaze waiting expectantly. 

“ _What?_ “ Derek turns to his uncle, “ _tell Scott that we need to use him to get his Mate to turn into the half-Kanima state so that we can kill the Kanima, which may then kill his Mate unless he can fully turn into a werewolf?_ “ 

“Yes.” 

Derek turns away and walks out through the door. 

\--- 

Isaac and Scott are carrying the body bag containing Jackson out of the hospital to Scott’s mom’s car; abruptly they are blinded by the headlights from a black SUV. 

Through the light shining on them all they can make out is a man getting out of the passenger door and a woman emerging from the drivers’ side. Scott recognises the scent of the man; it’s Jed. 

Scott is expecting the worst; the women’s scent is similar to Jed’s, but drenched in wolfsbane like any hunter’s. He and Isaac put the body bag down and they ready themselves for a fight. 

\--- 

Erica and Boyd are crashing through the forest; running as fast as they can, holding onto each other. There is something in the woods with them. They don’t recognise the scent; they can’t really make it out, something is being used to mask it. 

As they burst into a clearing they are suddenly targeted with a dozen laser sights; the darts zip through the air, a pungent acrid smell surrounding them from the darts, stinging as they hit them again and again. 

Eyes rolling into the backs of their heads they collapse. 

\--- 

Jed approaches Scott; half crouching, his throat bared as a whimper escapes from between his lips. 

“Scott, Sir,” Jed’s tone pleading and hopeful, “this is my sister, Rebeccah; she... she knows... about me.” Jed sounds like he can’t believe the words coming from his own mouth. 

“Grief, seriously Jed we don’t have time for this,” Rebeccah looks to Scott, “in a family of hunters do you really think nobody would notice him get cranky once a month, or him skulking back into the house the day after a full moon?” 

“You’d have to be pretty stupid,” Isaac agrees with a shrug of his shoulders. 

Jed edges towards Scott; his wolf needing comfort from his Dominant pack mate, but unsure if Scott trusts him. 

“Gerard, Chris and Allison have taken off after Derek,” Scott can hear the truth of her words, “but I think Gerard is planning on using Allison as bait; I’m not sure exactly what he is up to, he’s already broken the code,” Scott still doesn’t say anything, he waits for her to continue; Isaac takes follows Scott’s lead and remains silent. 

“I need to stop Gerard; I want to help, if you’ll let me.” Her heart beats steadily. 

“Then can you let us go?” Scott nods his head in the direction of her car blocking their way. Rebeccah looks at the beat up car she’s stopped in front of. 

“No,” she turns back to Scott, eyebrows arched and a smirk at the edge of her lips, “my car is faster.” 

\--- 

“Scott and Isaac are taking Jackson to the warehouse district,” Danny looks up at the sheriff and Stiles from the text he was reading, “they’re gonna meet up with Derek and Peter there.” 

“We should stop at Scott’s on the way; there’s a package he might need,” Stiles says grabbing the keys to his jeep on the way out. 

\--- 

Since Jackson first emerged from the body bag in half-Kanima state, impaling Derek on his claws and throwing him back through the warehouse, the fight has been going against them. Even with Rebeccah and Jed fighting with them. 

Allison is keeping her aim trained on Derek, but the now fully transformed Kanima is concentrating on him too; it does mean Allison doesn’t get that many shots at Derek. 

Chris is firing at any werewolf, Derek, Jed and Scott; he’s already taken Isaac down with two daggers into his back. 

Gerard is standing back, watching the scene unfold before him; and taking some more of his pills. 

Scott has tried to command Jackson, but since emerging from the cocoon the Kanima seems firmly in control and Scott can’t reach through to him; and Gerard has masterful control of the Kanima. 

The Kanima slashes across Derek’s abdomen with its claws; the toxin seeping into him, slowing him until he staggers to the ground paralysed. Allison moves in for the kill; still looking to avenge her mother’s death. Her father also seizing the chance is readying to fire. 

As the Kanima wraps its clawed hand around Allison’s neck, holding her off, Gerard commands Chris to lower his weapon. 

“Not yet,” Gerard calmly states. 

“ _What are you doing?_ “ Allison and Chris both ask. 

“He’s doing what he came here to do.” Gerard turns to Scott at his words. 

“Then you know.” It isn’t really a question, more surprise; people always underestimate Scott. 

“I could _smell_ it the night you _threatened to kill_ my mom; the night outside the hospital when you stabbed me.” 

“Cancer,” Isaac says, “ _he’s dying of cancer_.” 

“And wants Derek to give him the bite,” Scott stalks around Derek, lying prone and fighting the paralysis caused by venom, he looks Gerard in the eye, “then you’ll kill him to become the Alpha.” 

“And knowing that,” Gerard barely holds back the laugh threatening to break loose from his control; his grin widening as he sees fulfilment of his well-orchestrated plan within grasp, “you still sent me the text of where you meeting him.” 

Scott can feel the glower from Isaac, Jed and Peter; Jed rushes towards him, Scott turns commanding him to stop. Everyone stills; freezes where they stand. 

“You monster!” Chris chokes out at his father; the one who insisted that he help his wife, his Dom, to die because she had been bitten. 

“Not yet,” Gerard stares him down, “doctors may not have a cure, but the supernatural does; and when it comes to survival I’d kill my own son.” 

Scott drags Derek over to Gerard. 

Derek begs him not to do this, not to allow Gerard to manipulate him, no to give in to Gerard. 

“In case you haven’t guessed,” Gerard taunts Derek, “Scott knows what the grand prize is here; he does this small favour for me and he can _have_ Allison, I won’t stand in his way. The only piece that doesn’t fit is you Derek. There is no competing with young love.” 

Scott hears a whimper from behind him, most likely from Jed, as he holds Derek’s head back, opening his mouth wide enough for Gerard to fit his arm between the fangs. Derek bites down, Gerard roars in agony. When Derek withdraws his fangs from Gerard’s flesh he collapses to his knees between Scott can Gerard as if in defeat. 

Gerard can feel the heat in his blood, coursing through his body; this is it, this is his salvation from death. He’s smiling, grinning in his triumph, at the fools around him; the puppets he was able to control to get what he desired. 

Until the black bile starts to flow from the bite; flow from his nose and his eyes. 

“What is this?” He turns his scowl from the bite on his arm to Scott, “What did you do?” 

“Everyone always said you had a plan, well I had a plan too.” Scott doesn’t waver under Gerard’s gaze. 

“Scott made sure you didn’t lose your little pill box,” Derek, leaning back against Scott, scowls up at Gerard; turning his gaze up to Scott, “and you were worried I wouldn’t be able to fool him.” 

“I should have more faith in my Alpha,” he smirks down at Derek. 

Fumbling though his pockets Gerard retrieves the box of pills; crushing them between his fingers he finds them filled with mountain ash. 

“ **Kill them!** “ he commands the Kanima, “ ** _Kill them all!_** “ as he collapses to the ground; the black bile pouring forth from his mouth. 

\--- 

Stiles speeds his jeep through the warehouse screeching to a halt as he hits, what he hopes is, the Kanima. The Kanima jobs onto the hood, hissing through the window at Stiles, Danny and the Sheriff. They all scramble from the jeep. 

Chris still feels the anger churning inside him; his father was as much to blame for Victoria’s death, so he thinks he got what he deserved, but Derek, Derek is still there, still living while his Dom, his wife, his love is gone. He raises his gun, taking aim at the figure still slowed and kneeling beside Scott... 

“ **Argent No** ,” the voice booming the commands at him, “ ** _Drop your weapon and drop to your knees boy!_** “ A familiar voice, strong and authoritative, that he finds he needs to obey. The sheriff picks up the dropped weapon as Chris Argent clasps his hands behind his back. 

Danny rushes to Isaac; checking that his sub is unharmed, or at least healing. 

Stiles to Scott, as he hands him a wooden box with the familiar collar and crop insignia, before dropping ungraciously to his knees beside his Dom, pulling Derek into a hug. 

“Jackson, stop!” Scott shouts out as the Kanima is about to strike out at Stiles. 

The reptilian eyes fix not on Scott, but the black leather in his hands. He remembers back to that perfect night ‘ _“Maybe I’ll get you to wear this to school,” Scott smiles at Jackson, causing him to blush even more and his cock to firm just that little harder._ ‘ 

Something in him recognises it; it is his collar, even though it now has small spikes protruding five millimetres where there were flat studs before. 

Jackson, in half-Kanima form, takes a step back his eyes never leaving the collar in Scott’s hands. Scott is about to close the distance to Jackson when Derek and Peter seize the chance and rushing forward sink their claws into him from in front and behind. 

\--- 

The unassuming little car is being driven along the unlit road; they are about ten miles outside of Beacon Hills and should reach their destination early tomorrow morning. In the passenger seat next to the driver the co-driver is asleep, he’ll take over from the driver in a few hours; their only stops on the trip are for the drivers to switch. 

In the back of the car sitting behind the driver is Alan Deaton. Sitting next to him bound by the chains linked through the cuffs on his ankles and wrists is Matt Daehler. 

The car slows down a short distance from a truck stopped in the road ahead; the truck appears to have jack-knifed, the cab on the wrong side of the road. 

Deaton pulls Matt down in the back of the car as small barbed darts fire through the window on Matt’s side of the car striking him. As Matt’s vision blurs he sees the other window on Deaton’s side fracture and the concentric pattern ripple out from where the hooded black-clad figure has struck Deaton’s head against it. 

Then Matt’s world goes black. 

\--- 

As Derek and Peter back away from Jackson he stands there swaying as the life ebbs from him; Scott runs to him, catching him in his arms as Jackson stumbles to his knees. They fall to their knees together on the concrete floor of the warehouse; Scott’s arms wrapped around Jackson. 

“Do you still...?” Jackson’s blue eyes searching Scott’s with hope. 

“Yes...” Scott’s eyes brimming with tears eager to fall, his face unmasked to show his worries and fears, “I do Jackson, I do still want you, I do still love you; you’re still mine.” 

The collar falls from Scott’s grasp as Jackson dies in his arms; the electric blue of the silk lining shining in the jeeps headlights, the glistening of the metal engraved plate of entwined SMJW. Scott clasps Jackson to him, “ ** _No, No, No, please, no._** “ 

_This can’t be happening; Derek told him this was the only way they knew how to save Jackson. He wouldn’t lie to him, not again, not like he did about the cure, not now that Scott was one of Derek’s pack_. 

Scott lays Jacksons’ body on the ground; as the last vestiges of the Kanima leave Jackson, Scott stands and turns to Derek. Through the tears streaming down his face he sees Danny and Isaac clinging to each other, their own tears falling; Allison’s gloved hand gripped firmly around Jed’s hand as they stand side by side, pressed against one another; and Stiles’ face buried in Derek shoulder, Derek’s arm tightly wrapped around Stiles cleaving him to Derek. 

Scott takes faltering steps towards them; he won’t beg, he won’t plead. Only he has to. 

“Derek,” his voice sounds so small, so unlike him, “Derek, you said this would save him, you said this was the only way; please,” the tears won’t stop, he can’t lose Jackson again, “please, Derek, help me save him...” 

The werewolves hear it first, the scraping of claws on the concrete. 

Scott turns as Jackson’s eyes open; bluer than they have ever been. 

Jackson slowly rises; his naked body illuminated by the headlights of the jeep, his claws extended, his howl roars from between his fangs, his eyes a brilliant electric blue. 

Scott pulls Jackson to him, wrapping his arms around him, “Mine.” 

Jackson’s relieved reply as he holds Scott close to him, “Yours.” 


	23. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always this has not been proof-read/beta'd; all mistakes are mine.

Allison is sitting on her bed; Jed is kneeling at her feet, his head resting on her lap as she gently strokes his hair.

She still can’t quite believe everything that happened; _everything she found out afterwards_.

 **Her mom had tried to kill Scott**. She had tried to poison him with a type of wolfsbane to make it look like he had an asthma attack. Derek burst into the room filled with wolfsbane and saved him; that was the last time Derek saw her mom; when she attacked him and they fought must have been when he bit her. Only having inhaled the wolfsbane he was becoming affected by it too and he doesn’t remember actually biting her; only fighting her off and saving Scott.

She can’t _hate_ Derek, can’t really blame him for her mother’s death; he didn’t intentionally bite her, and he wouldn’t have if she hadn’t tried to poison Scott filling the room with toxin.

Her grandfather, _not that she’ll ever call him that again_ , that was a man she could **_hate_**. He was willing to _betray everything he claimed to believe in_ ; he was willing to _sacrifice everyone_ in their family for _his own survival_. He would have become a werewolf after he had said her mother had no choice but to take her life because of being bitten.

She’s not sure what she feels; whatever it is it can’t be as bad as her father. He’s numb.

Just now he is downstairs with Stiles’ father; the sheriff seems to be the only person he responds to.

\--

Chris is naked; kneeling on the floor, his wrists cuffed at his back, in front of the chair that John is sitting in.

He feels lost, set adrift with nothing tethering him to the ground; nothing keeping him grounded, tied-down and safe.

Victoria knew how to tie him down, the knots tight and the rope binding, pinching his skin.

He can’t hold back the sobs, his whole body shaking with the violence of them; the pain and the sorrow of his loss, of how much he misses her.

The strong hand on the back of his neck pulls him into a hug; he relaxes as John holds him, lets him cry on his shoulder, a thumb stroking against the back of his neck as the other hand rubs his back. The words calming and soothing, whispered against his ear.

“ _It’s okay boy, everything is going to be okay; I’ve got you boy._ “

“When does it stop hurting, when does the pain go away?”

“It doesn’t; you just learn ways to cope with it. It can’t go away, because for it to go you’d need to stop thinking about them, and you can’t stop thinking about them because you love them and miss them, and you wish like hell they were here with you or you were with them. But you can’t be; there are other people who need you and depend on you, so you learn to cope with the pain and the loss; and you keep going.”

\--

Melissa McCall wasn’t sure who she expected to be at her door when she opened it; it wasn’t like she was expecting anyone. Scott was staying over at the Whittemore’s place with Jackson, so she was alone in the house.

The doorbell rang again as she pulled open the door, surprised to see her almost date from few months back grinning at her wolfishly.

“I hope you don’t mind me dropping by,” Peter put on his most charming act, “I just got back in town, and as I plan to be staying around town, wondered if you would like to try again? Our last date didn’t really get started, before that boy in the jeep ran into the back of my parked car; and I’d be a fool to let a submissive like you slip away without trying to get a collar round that pretty neck.”

\--

Lydia Martin was worried.

She’d gotten the text from Stiles that Jackson was okay, that wasn’t what was worrying her.

It was the fact that her calls and texts to both Erica and Boyd were going unanswered. They were normally here by now; she couldn’t call or text again, it would seem needy and desperate. And she wasn’t desperate or needy.

It had just started as some fun; nothing serious. Now she finds she has feelings; and that is going to give her worry lines, and she doesn’t want wrinkles god damn it.

They better be okay; because then she can make them pay for making her worry about them.

\--

Danny is sitting on his bed; he’s looking down at the collar in his hand, waiting to put it back around Isaac’s neck when he finishes in the shower. He’s been thinking a lot about Isaac being a werewolf and what it means for his relationship with him; the danger that puts them both in from hunters. The danger that it especially put him in; being human.

So, he’s been thinking about this; and thinking about how really he’s putting Isaac in more danger, because Isaac will put himself in harm’s way to protect Danny. Danny is weaker being human and more likely to die from being shot or stabbed; _so how is he supposed to protect his submissive?_

Isaac kneels in front of Danny, naked with his hair still damp from the shower. Danny always puts his collar back on immediately, but this time he doesn’t; this time he’s sitting there with the collar held tight in his grasp; and Isaac and hear the quickened heartbeat, and he can smell the scent of worry.

“Danny, Sir?” Isaac feels a little insecure; _why hasn’t Danny put his collar back on him?_

“We need to talk about something,” Isaac goes still at the words, “I been thinking about us, and about you being a werewolf; the fact that hunters could use me to get to you, that because I’m human I’m more of a liability to you and the pack.”

Isaac feels cold, knows that Danny has realised how much danger being with him puts him in and is about to reject him. He wants to plead with him not to send him away that he’ll protect Danny with his life; but he knows he doesn’t deserve to be with him, he still recalls his father’s words still clearly, _you’ll never find yourself a decent Dom being such a pathetic sub_. 

“So, I think its best that I ask Derek to give me the bite.”

Isaac’s head snaps up; he can’t have heard what he thinks he has, “What?”

“I’m going to ask Derek to bite me, to make me a werewolf,” Danny sounds so sure of what he’s saying.

“You can’t, it could kill you,” Isaac shouts his panicked reply at his Dom.

“Isaac,” Danny chastises the submissive for his outburst with his tone, “I know that it’s possible to die from the bite; you told me that, and you still took the chance. I believe I’m strong enough to survive, and I need to be strong enough to stand beside you in a fight with the likes of Gerard Argent; I need to be able to defend what’s mine, to be able to defend you.”

Danny pulls Isaac to him, claiming his mouth in a kiss; licking along Isaac’s jaw until he nuzzles at his neck.

“I love you Isaac Lahey,” Danny whispers against his ear, “and I don’t want to lose you because some hunter aims at me and you need to defend me; you’re mine and I intend to keep you.”

Isaac whimpers against Danny, clinging to him as Danny marks him; biting as hard into his bared neck as Danny’s human teeth can.

\--

Stiles is stretched out on his bed; his legs wrapped around Derek’s waist, his arms held above his head as Derek laves at the bruises left by Gerard, washing away the marks and pain from his Mate that the hunter left as he bucks and thrusts into his submissives bruised and reddened ass.

Derek had taken the hairbrush to Stiles’ ass for attempting to lie to his father, and planning on trying to hide what happened with Gerard from Derek; he knows Stiles’ lie was to protect him, but Derek needs him to truthful with him. Always.

Stiles is so close, so close; the trail of clear viscous trailing down his abs and puddled on his chest is evidence of how close he is. But Derek is holding back, keeping his knot from breaching into him and tying them together. Stiles wants his Doms knot in him.

“Please, Sir, Derek, please,” Stiles whimpers as he clings to Derek, searching for his mouth to kiss; needing Derek to claim him utterly.

“Please Derek, Sir, please give me your knot,” he pleads with his Dom; his words tumbling out, “please Sir, I need to feel you in me, need to feel my Dom take me; need to feel my Mate claim me; need my Alpha; I need you Derek, I need to feel you swell in me and claim me so every wolf knows who I belong to. I belong to you; I love you.”

Derek feels his eyes bleed red as he pushes deeper, fully into Stiles taking them both over; afterwards, when they are both lying there with Derek now on his back and Stiles on top still tied to him Derek cups Stiles’ face in his hand and strokes his thumb along his jaw, “I love you too, Stiles.” They both know that _‘I belong to you too’_ is implied.

\--

Jackson’s arms were stretched above him; chained to the corners of the bed. His legs were similarly chained to the bottom of the bed. The scent of Scott filled his senses; sweet and spicy, he couldn’t get enough of it; couldn’t get enough of Scott touching him.

And Scott hadn’t stopped touching him; spanking him, pinching him, biting him and kissing him. Constantly stimulating him; constantly reassuring him, _and never letting him think about what he had done as the Kanima_.

The collar was fitted around his neck; Jackson’s eyes matching the lining of his collar, he was having trouble controlling his shifting. He was a werewolf now, like his Dom; like he had wanted since discovering that they were real, and that Scott was one.

The marks Scott had been creating on him were no-longer lasting has they had before; his healing kicking in and taking Scott’s marks from his body.

Scott was on top of him now, sitting astride him while raking his claws down his chest; remarking where he had attached dozens of little black pegs down each side, two rows on each side, then flicked them off one by one. The sharpness of the pain increased Jackson’s arousal as he writhed under Scott’s touch.

Jackson’s ass was stuffed with a butt plug, his ring of muscle clenching and gripping it with every sensation Scott created. He wished it was Scott’s cock and knot in him; but that was rubbing against his abs, smearing his skin with Scott’s essence.

Jackson’s eyes fly open in surprise as he feels the heat around the head of his cock; as Scott, his Dom, pushes back gripping Jackson’s shaft in the lips of his puckered entrance.

“Sir, Scott?” This isn’t something Jackson expected to happen.

“You’ve felt my knot, yes?”

“Yes sir.” Jackson’s breathing quickens, his heart pounding.

“Now, I want to feel my Mates knot.”

“Mate?” Jackson’s voice is strained with his excitement, “As in wolfs mates for life mate?”

“Yes Jackson; a werewolves knot only forms when his wolf recognises his Mate.”

Scott reaches behind himself and grips the base of Jackson’s shaft; and Jackson feels the difference, the wider base as Scott’s fingers caress him there. Jackson can’t stop the moans that escape from him.

“Fuck me Jackson,” Scott commands him, “let me feel your knot fill me.”

As Jackson’s knot pierces into him Scott releases over Jackson’s body; gripping tightly around Jacksons’ knot as he, lost in his arousal, thrusts against his Dom filling him as Scott bites down on his Mates collarbone; claiming him as his.

Scott sits back up, looking down into his submissives’, his Mates’, electric blue eyes with his own molten gold.

“Promise?” Scott frowns in confusion at Jacksons’ question.

“Promise me it’s for life?”

“We’re together for life.” Scott answers, leaning forward to capture Jackson’s mouth in a kiss; his tongue pushing back against Jackson’s as their passion rises again. Jackson’s tongue pushing back as he kisses his Dom, his Mate, with just as much need and desire.

Scott knew that his submissive, his Mate, Jackson was going to have to know that he had claimed Matt as his submissive too; but not yet. He wasn’t sure how Jackson would react; not after the control that Matt had over the Kanima, after what Matt had made the Kanima do. Jackson needed his support, his full attention and understanding while he came to terms with crimes perpetrated by the Kanima for Matt and Gerard.

So Scott was not looking forward to telling Jackson that Matt was recognised as his submissive; he would have to, and he would have to explain why. He would have to ensure that Jackson understood why; and ensure that Jackson knew that no matter what, _he would always be his first priority_.

\--

Ms Morrell strides to the figure kneeling over the black droplets on the ground, trailing away from the warehouse. The heels of her knee high boots clicking on concrete, the coat-tails of her black leather jacket flowing out behind her.

“There’s still been no sign of Gerard,” the kneeling woman says turning to regard the ' _school counsellor_ ', “any word from Deaton?”

“No, he should have called by now; he would have arrived with Matt a few hours ago.” Ms Morrell’s manner does little to conceal her concern; though she tries, “How’s your brother’s relationship with Argent, Becca?”

“Uncertain, I think; she’s had a lot to deal with, mostly thanks to her grandfather,” Rebeccah looks contemplative, “and I’m not sure how trustful of non-humans, or her own feelings, she is right now; hopefully it will work out.”

“You still haven’t told your little brother about you being more than human yet have you?”

“No, of all my half-siblings he’s the only one I’d consider telling; but not right now.”

“What is it?” Ms Morrell asks; from the expression that crosses Rebeccah’s face she is sure there’s something else on her mind.

“Scott McCall,” her answer is pensive, she’s not sure she should have said anything, but she’s started and Morrell won’t let her stop now, “from his profile she shouldn’t be able to do some of I saw him do.”

“Such as?” Her face is blank and expressionless as she waits on Rebeccah saying what she already knows; has seen for herself.

“He resisted a Master; he made a whole room of people stop on his command, submissive or Dominant.” She pauses before continuing, “Given his profile at the Centre he shouldn’t be able to influence at that level; not unless...”

“It’s possible; but it’s something I want to confirm with Deaton,” Morrell interrupts, “he knows McCall, and should have more insight on the possibility.”

\--

_Jackson is lying on his back; his legs pulled up and chained wide to either side of his head, his ass spread and open. He bites down on his lips as his eyelids flutter, revealing glimpses of his reptilian eyes hidden beneath them at the sting from his nipples; stretched taut by the clamps cutting into them. The chains connected to the clamps held tight in Matt’s hands._

_Matt’s cockhead rests in Jackson’s ass as their Dom’s hands pull him back, impaling him on his cock; Scott’s cock filling him, stretching him wide and pushing on his prostrate. Matt can’t stop the groan escaping him at the feel of his Dom’s control of him and Jackson._

_Scott pushes him forward again into Jackson’s ass until only the head of Scott’s cock is in him; pulling at the puckered opening, threatening to pull out of him, leave him empty and needing. Matt wants to beg Scott not to pull out of him, not to leave him; that he needs Scott filling him and owning him, needs Scott. But he has to stay silent; they are not to talk._

_He’s pulled back on to Scott’s cock as he feels Scott’s tongue lick up along his spine until his fangs bite at the back of his neck; scraping along his skin. Scott’s arms push and pull Matt’s hips back and forth; the pace increasing, quicker and harder. His tongue slides along Matt’s jaw; his breath against his ear, whispering permission; “Come.”_

_Scott pushes his own his forward filling Matt as he is pushed fully into Jackson; Scott’s hand grabs at the chains in Matt’s hands and pulls; the clamps snapping as they detach from Jackson._

_As Matt releases into Jackson, Jackson shoots over his abs._

Matt awakens to the cooling, drying, sticky coating over his abs and chest. He’s lying naked on a mattress; on a raised platform in a white room; a camera attached to the ceiling in one corner. There’s nothing else in the room. No sheet to cover himself, no clothes.

He’s not sure how long he has been here; doesn’t know if Dr Deaton is alive or dead like the drivers. He doesn’t know where here is, or what they want with him.

The one fact **_he knows_** , _the one thing he is certain of_ ; Scott will find him, **_his Dom will save him_**.

\--

Her hair is pulled back in a tight bun; the style is old fashioned, but it suits her. It gives her face a severe, sharp, edge; adds to her authority. She exists when the elevator stops; to reach Sub-Level-9 the pass must be granted access, and the retinal scan must match the person the pass was allocated to. She strides through the elevator doors and heads straight into the conference room. There are two men in the room; one looks to be in his early thirties, he’s like a stereotypical science geek in a white lab coat and glasses; the other is dressed in more casual attire, chinos and a plaid shirt, his hair is greying at the temples and he could be in his late thirties or early forties. She doesn’t really care; she can check in their files later.

They stand when she enters.

“So, do we know why the subject has stopped transforming?” She asks the science geek.

“No, ma’am; but his DNA still contains the non-Type0 markers; they are similar to the Type3 so we are classifying him a Type3A, so he is still a useful subject.”

“What about the two Type3 subjects?”

“They were recovered from same area; we’re currently keeping them both sedated.”

She turns to the other man, the one who hasn’t yet spoken, “And Deaton?”

“He escaped ma’am; we’re still investigating how.”

“You’re family are still in the Beacon Hills area aren’t they?” She had read that in his file; that and the fact that the son had worked at Deaton’s clinic.

“Yes ma’am, my ex-wife and son.”

“Then that should give you a cover story, and given your son is registered as the Dominant of this Type3A you can find out what he knows, and whether he would be of any use to us here. Deaton is sure to return there and make contact with whomever he’s working with; according to the file your son also worked with Deaton at his Animal Clinic. Find out what your son knows, find Deaton and bring him back; alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This completes 'Needs and Desires' and sets-up the next story I plan in the series, which assuming there is interest I'll probably start posting after Christmas.


End file.
